Touched By An Angel
by Samitballi
Summary: Dean Winchester has loved Elita McKee for fourteen years- but he hasn't seen her in equally as long. Their weeklong romance as teenagers still lingers in both their minds, but when Dean revisits his past, will he stir up too much trouble for his love?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So this is my first Supernatural fanfiction! I'm really excited and I hope you guys enjoy it :) I'm not good with the supernatural elements of the show so this is more a story about the boy's relationships. I hope I do it justice :)

*****************************January 13, 1997*****************************

Dean Winchester was seventeen years old and more handsome then any male model- even if he personally exploited it. He was only looking for a few things in life; he wanted his father's 1967 Chevy Impala, he wanted his little brother Sammy to grow up to be at least slightly less annoying, and he wanted ass. Nice, wholesale ass.

But instead of driving, Dean was riding bitch; and instead of shutting his cake hole, Sammy was blathering away in the back seat. And Dean hadn't gotten any in…two whole weeks!

"Why do I have to go? Can't I stay at the hotel?" Sammy whined in the backseat. Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. When John Winchester was around, he did the parenting. When he wasn't around- which was, admittedly, a great deal of the time- that was Dean's job. He considered times like these- when John wasn't hunting the supernatural- vacations from babysitting duty.

"You're too young to stay there by yourself, Sam." John replied simply.

"But I'm fourteen!" Sam complained. Dean was suppressing the urge to slap Sammy. Dean didn't put up with bullshit when he was babysitting.

"We're too far out of town for you to stay alone, Sam; you would be spending every night alone for two weeks. I won't allow that." John said sternly, glaring at his son in the review mirror.

A shiver ran up and down Dean's spine at the though of Sammy being left alone in a hotel for two weeks. Who would protect him? If Dean wasn't around, who was going to keep Sammy safe? That was Dean's job, and he did it damn well. The thought of failure made him cringe.

* * *

><p>John Winchester dropped a folder in Dean's lap as they waited for Sam to finish his business at the local Gas 'N' Gulp. "What's this?" Dean asked as he opened the folder. Inside were a stack of papers; a biography, maybe; and a photo of a teenage girl.<p>

"This is our next case. Meet Elita Mckee." John replied, pointing to the picture. Dean pulled it out of the flap and studied it.

She wasn't just pretty- hell she wasn't just gorgeous. She was almost angelic looking. She had long dark brown hair and piercing hazel eyes. Her features were petite but her lips…Dean stared at her kissable lips for a minute too long.

John grabbed the photo from his son and pointed to the bio. "Read that then give it to Sammy to read."

"He's working with us? I thought he was just going to hang around after school and stuff." Dean replied wearily. He hated having Sam on hunting trips.

"He has to man up to his responsibilities." John retorted sternly and Dean didn't say anything after that. He just looked down and began to read.

_Elita Miracle Mckee_

_January 24, 1981 Akron, Ohio_

_Mother; Marge Mckee Martin- deceased_

_Father; Akriel_

_Stepfather; Al Martin- deceased_

_Half human-half angel._

"This isn't much of a bio, dad." Dean murmured as John Winchester drove the distance to Elita Mckee's South Dakota home. Sam was in the back seat, sleeping uncomfortably with his head propped against the cold window.

"That's because you have to read between the lines. Read what the words aren't telling you." John replied.

"How do I do that?"

"Read me a sentence from her bio." John requested and Dean stuck his nose back into the folder. Her resurfaced a second latter and turned to his father.

"Living alone since fourteen." Dead quoted and John absently scratched his chin.

"Well, we know her mother and step-father are both dead, and her biological father is an angel. So that sentence says her step-father and mother were both killed sometime two years ago. Give me another one."

"Ok, well," Dean said, reading as he spoke. "It says that a group of four demons attacked the family…two years ago. She survived, her parents didn't."

"You tell me what that means." John challenged and it was a second before Dean answered.

"I would say she's a good fighter. Two well trained hunters couldn't kill two demons; but one fourteen year old girl could. She's either one hell of a fighter or she's got something Holy in her." Dean summarized and John chuckled under his breath.

"Keep reading," John said and so Dean listened. And a minute latter Dean made a sound of appraisal.

"She has angle powers. But they aren't listed."

"That's because no one really knows the extent of her powers. There are millions of possibilities. Her mother didn't know a thing, her step-father was dumber then a box of rocks and Akriel is nowhere to be found. So it's all up to guessing."

"Does Elita know what she can do?" Dean asked, closing the folder. He could only take so much of this. He didn't even really believe in angles.

"For the most part, but she's not telling anyone."

******************************Present Day********************************

Dean was leaning over the engine of his 67' Chevy Impala, doing some work on the inside, when Sam snuck up behind him. "Whatcha doing?" he asked and Dean jumped.

The thud Dean's head made as it crashed into the hood made Sam laugh. Dean cursed wildly, rubbing the back of his head as he glared at his little brother. "Dude, don't sneak up on a man while he's working on a car. You could get a wrench shoved down your throat." Dean warned.

"I'll be sure to remember that," Sam said sarcastically with a smile. "Hey, so Bobby needs us inside for a minute. He says he's got something important for us to hear and that the Impala can wait."

"He has a case?" Dean asked as he wiped off his hands on an old red rag he'd found lying around the scrap yard Bobby called a backyard.

"I don't know," Sam said, lost in thought. "But we better get inside before he pulls out the shotgun."

The boys headed inside where Dean rinsed off his hands and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Bobby, already nursing his own beer, was sitting in the study behind his desk. The pile of ancient text books seemed to have grown larger and more confusing since Dean had gone outside. The last thing Dean wanted was to study more. He'd done enough of that for two lifetimes. He hoped Bobby had field work for them, not more studying.

"What's up Bobby?" Sam asked, sitting on the armrest of one of the many chairs in Bobby's office. Dean fell down onto the couch in the corner, exhausted.

"I might have a case for you two idjits." Bobby said and Dean sat up. "A girl in Salt Lake City died of asphyxiation while sleeping."

"How is that suspicious?" Sam asked, quizzically looking over the police report Bobby handed him.

"Yeah, Bobby. That sounds pretty cut and dry to me. Obviously someone was tired of having her around. She's surrounded by pillows…" Dean let his point settle in as he took a pull from his beer.

"There was no trace in her airways. So…was she suffocated?" Sam assessed after reading the autopsy report included in the police report.

"Her death has yet to be explained. All the police know is that Darla Savage went to bed a normal 13 year old girl; but didn't wake up." Bobby replied nonchalantly. Dean took a slow pull from her beer and stared at the floor boards.

"I'm game," Sam said easily. "I'm going stir crazy cooked up here."

"We don't even know if this is supernatural. It could be anything from a vengeful teenage girl to stressed parents. People kill each other all the time. And their getting clever- thanks to CSI. Why do we have to go?"

"True, but it's an excuse to get the hell out of here- no offense, Bobby." Sam replied and Bobby shrugged.

"None taken."

"Look," Sam said to Dean. "We either go together or I'll go by myself. Either way I'm getting out of South Dakota for a while. We've been here for almost a month, Dean; we need to take a case."

Dean couldn't deny that he was going a bit stir crazy as well. He'd spent almost every minute working on the Impala and when he wasn't doing that, Bobby had him researching. Shit was inches from hitting the fan and Bobby wanted to be ready. Too bad it was at the coast of Dean and Sam's sanity.

Dean actually wanted to take a case, he'd been looking for something- anything at all!- to get him out of Bobby's house, but nothing had come along. That is, until he found an article in the South Dakota tribute two days ago. A report that made him both cringe and smile.

As he packed up the few things he had, he pulled the newspaper clipping from his back pocket and read over it again.

_Fire Destroys Empty Madison Home_

_A local Madison County home caught fire late Saturday night after being assumed vacant for almost 14 years. Police officials aren't certain what caused the fire, but everything within the house as well as the structure was burnt to ashes. There seem to be no record of ownership but the house was fully furnished. Very few personal items were recovered- enough to house one or two guests irregularly. Police have been digging around in the wreckage for a reason for the fire as well as any clues as to who owns the building._

_If anyone has any information about the owner or the home itself, please contact the Madison County sheriffs department…_

There was a list of numbers and office hours for the police station and next to the article was a picture of a very familiar home in Madison, South Dakota. The little green house with the white shutters and wrap around porch. The little dilapidated garden and the hand built garage in the backyard.

That story made Dean cringe because he'd spent two weeks in that house when he was 18 and they were some of the best and worst weeks of his adolescence. But more then his misspent youth, the picture brought back the memory of a past partner. A girl Dean had somehow fallen hard for. A girl he hadn't seen in over fourteen years; but he still thought about regularly.

He just hopped that where ever she was, close or far from him, Elita Mckee was safe.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey guys! Here's chapter two for you; and maybe we can get some reviews? I'm loving all the Alerts and Favorites! You guys are awesome :D Enjoy!

*****************************January 14, 1997*****************************

John Winchester led the way into Elita Mckee's house with Dean and Sam in toe. The house was full of hunters and each hunter glared at the infamous Winchester family. They walked into the eat-in kitchen and everyone looked up.

"Dean. Sam." John introduced lamely, pointing to each boy then he headed towards the den in search of Bobby Singer.

Dean flashed a smile but no one returned the favor. There was a group of three men huddled around the table reading maps while the other hunters were scattered about reading old books and cleaning weapons. Sam was studying them all, but Dean was studying the girl standing at the table.

She was at the head of the table, furthest from Dean, going over a map of South Dakota. She had a red marker in her right hand and there were incoherent scribbles all through the map. They didn't make sense to Dean but the seemed to make sense to Elita because she was studying them like they were talking to her. But more important that the map she was working on, was her. Dean studied her from head to toe. She was closing in on five-foot-five inches but barely. She was lean and athletically built with clear muscles and a very well defined shape. She had a large chest- Dean guessed a C cup maybe even a D depending on the shirt she wore- and a nice ass as well as slender legs and long arms. Her long wavy brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders as she hunched over the table in blue jeans and a black A-shirt.

"Aren't you kind of young to be a hunter?" one of the hunters from the kitchen asked Sam, deliberately bumping into him as he passed them. Dean was just about to stick up for Sammy when he was interrupted.

"Aren't you a kind of dumb to be a hunter?" Elita retorted, looking up to the burly man standing by Dean. Dean watched the hunters hands clench into fists, like he was about to hit Elita and Dean turned to see her smirk at him.

"There are no age requirements for this shit. But there should be IQ requirements." she mumbled, turning back to her map and scribbling another line on the map. The hunter turned bright red as he advanced towards Elita.

"Watch your mouth-" he began to say when John Winchester came back in and interrupted. He went right over to Elita and stood over her work.

"We need to talk," he told her but she didn't look up.

"I'm busy," she replied, still focused on her map work. John put a hand on her shoulder and leaned closer, whispering in her ear. Dean's jaw nearly dropped.

She let go of the marker with a sigh. "Let's talk, Winchester." she replied exasperatedly and went to leave the house with John in toe.

"I want to know what you know, Elita." John demanded once they were alone. But Elita shook her head, hands on hips.

"No! I'm not joining the gossip mill, Winchester. I know just about as much as you do so back off."

"I know you know something, Elita, now tell me. I need to know everything. I'm here for two weeks, I'll figure it out by then." he threatened and Elita froze.

"Have fun then." she responded, heading back to the house but John grabbed her arm. "I don't know jack shit about your damn yellow eyed demon, Winchester. Now leave me the hell alone. Do your job and get the hell out of here." Elita yelled, yanking her arm free and returning to the house

*****************************January 20, 1997*****************************

Sam followed the sound of Joan Jett's voice up to Elita's bedroom. She would quarantine herself in there at night or when she was angry. Everyone knew not to bother her but there was nothing else to do in the house, so Sammy headed upstairs. She had her music turned up really loud and the door was closed but Sam knocked anyway.

"What?" she asked before she even had the door fully open. "Sam."

"Hi, I didn't mean to bother you but…I'm bored." Sam said honestly and Elita smiled at him, opening the door to him. He walked in precariously and Elita went to turn the music down, closing the door behind them.

Sam walked over to the window where she had a balcony with a trellis that lead down to the backyard. The window was well abused and the yard was torn up underneath. Smiling, Sam turned around. "You've been sneaking out." he concluded and Elita smiled with amazed eyes.

"You're good," she complimented, slapping his shoulder. "Yeah well, a girl has needs too Sammy." she replied, closing the window. She'd taken to calling him Sammy in the week they'd spent together. She liked the little Winchester boy. He was smart- a little too smart for his own good- and he had innocence still. Dean, on the other hand, had been nothing but a pain in the ass the whole time he'd been in the house.

"Dean doesn't sneak out; he just walks out. But he says that too- that he has needs." Sam said, sitting on Elita's unmade bed. She moseyed around the room, doing this and that, like straightening her desk and putting away clothes. It was a messy room but the only thing that had any semblance of order was her cassette collection. Sam recognized a few of the bands from Dean's collection.

"Dean is a pain in the ass." she established lackadaisically.

"That's for sure." Sam replied and they shared a laugh. "He likes you, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you like him back?"

"What's it to you?" Elita replied, flipping a pillow at Sam. It bounced off his head and he caught it, throwing it behind him. It was painfully obvious she liked him- and it was even more obvious that Dean liked her. Sam was sick of Dean always getting the girl.

*****************************January 22, 1997*****************************

"Would you own up to it already?" Dean accused harshly and Elita pushed his chest away. He always stood too close!

"Shut up, Dean." she told him, turning back to her 68' Road Runner. She was fixing it up, trying to get it to run again but with Dean always hovering around, she wasn't getting much work done. He'd come out, invade her personal space and make ridiculous innuendoes until she was forced to retreat to the house.

"You know you like me." he said with a cocky Dean smile. She just glared at him. That was the fourth time he'd said that today and she was getting tired of having it thrown in her face.

_Of course I like you!_ She thought. _How can I not!_

"You're psychotic, Dean. I do not like you." she lied, tinkering in her car. She let her hair fall in front of her face so he wouldn't catch her bluff. She reached over and turned on her boom box real loud. Cherry Bomb played over Dean as he tried to catch her attention. Finally, he went to shut it off.

"Look," he said, all cockiness gone from his tone and face. "We have the same birthday. So why don't we do something? We both know no one else is going to do shit, so why don't you and I celebrate?" Dean suggested and Elita popped her head out from under the hood.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked skeptically. Knowing Dean it had something to do with sex.

"I don't know, we can go out to eat or something."

"That sounds a hell of a lot like a date to me." she accused and Dean smiled, shrugging.

"What do you say? Wish me a happy eighteenth?"

******************************Present Day********************************

Dean was munching on a cheeseburger as he drove into Salt Lake City with Sam in the passenger seat. Sam was reading news articles on his laptop while they drove, trying to collect as much evidence on the case as possible.

"Okay," Sam said having finished the newspaper article on the girl's death. "So Darla Savage was pretty much your typical teenage girl. She played soccer, got good grades and was obsessed with Twilight. Nothing mentioned here about suspicious behavior or anything."

"What about her death? Anything else about that?" Dean asked, rolling up his tinfoil and tossing it in the backseat. He did that all the time, but he always crawled back there and cleaned up every few days.

"Well nothing short of suspicious." Sam said. "The guy who performed the autopsy couldn't find a single indication of foul play at all. There was nothing in her airways, nothing around her mouth or nose and her body was undisturbed. Its like she just stopped breathing."

"What does that mean for us?" Dean asked, turning into a motel parking lot.

"I'm not sure. Bobby's looking into it now but I say we start at the house. Then maybe the body?"

"First, I sleep."

* * *

><p>"We're sorry for your loss." Sam consoled, sitting in the living room of the Savage home. The boys were using their fake FBI badges to investigate Darla's death.<p>

"Is there anyone you can think of that might hold a grudge against your daughter?" Dean asked and the parents looked to each other.

"No. No one. Everyone loved Darla." Mr. Savage said as tears streamed down his wife's face. "Why? You think someone killed her?"

"We're looking into every possibility." Sam replied. "Is there any chance we could take a look at Darla's room?"

"Of course, its just upstairs, second door on your right." Mr. Savage said and the boys headed upstairs. But along the way, another bedroom caught Dean's eye. He slowly opened the door and crept inside.

"Dean, what are you doing? This isn't her room." Sam accused, following his brother into the boys room.

"I know, but look-" Dean barely finished his sentence before the wind was knocked out of him. A little boy appeared out of nowhere and landed a hard punch right in Dean's abdomen, leaving Dean doubled over in shock.

"What are you doing here?" the eight year old yelled, fists still in the air.

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down here, buddy." Dean said, shuffling upright.

"The names Eric!" the boy yelled at Dean, going to hit him again. Dean scooted back away from the boy, breathing heavy.

"We're with the FBI." he said, holding out his badge as did Sam. "We're investigating your sister's death."

"Oh," the boy said, lowering his fists. "What are you doing in my room?"

"No reason," Dean lied, making his way to the door. "We were heading out." he said, exiting and heading down the hall.

"What was that?" Sam asked as they entered the right room.

"Did any of the police reports mention a little brother? I know the parents didn't. I wanted to know why they had a boy's room if they didn't have a boy." Dean defended himself as they walked around the frilly pink bedroom.

"No, I mean, what was with you doubling over in pain." Sam teased and Dean faked laughed. "Hey look," Sam said, pointing to her laptop by the bed.

"Alright, Nerd, work your magic." Dean told Sammy and started going through some of Darla's things. He pulled out diaries and phone books and even went through some of the little boxes in her room that were full of weird charms but nothing supernatural stood out to him.

"I got nothing, man. What do you have?" Dean asked, slamming a jewelry box closed.

"Pretty much the same. The last thing she did was check her email before bed."

"Damn," Dean looked around the room, looking for any indication that the girl was into something supernatural. Anything at all. When he turned towards the door, Eric was standing there.

"Hey, Eric." Dean said, going to talk to the little boy. He remembered when Ben was that age so he a slight chance of handling this the right way. "Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure, what about?" Eric asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Dean followed suit but leaned against the wall so he wasn't menacing looking.

"Was your sister into anything…weird?" Dean asked and the little boy cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"She was a teenage girl; what's _not_ weird about them?" Eric said and Dean smirked. "Her and her friends we really weird together though."

"Yeah, how so?" Sam asked, putting the laptop down and walking over to the door.

"When they would spend the night here I would hear them up all hours of the night singing. And I mean she had horrible taste in music- Lady Gaga and shit- but what they would sing wasn't music." Eric said, not failing to keep that smirk on Dean's face.

"What was it then?" Sam asked curiously.

"Like…chanting. But not hot cheerleader chanting but weird other language chanting." Eric said and Sam and Dean shared a look. Chanting was never a good thing.

"Who are some of the girls who would chant with your sister, Eric?" Dean asked, grabbing a piece of paper and pen off of Darla's desk and handing it to Eric.

"Here you go," Eric said, handing the paper over a minute latter with a whole list of names on it. "I remember all of their names because they were all smoking." Eric told Dean, wiggling his eyebrows like a villain in vaudeville. Dean tried to cover the laughter threatening to release.

"Thanks, man." Dean said, messing Eric's hair as he passed by.

"Well that's definitely unusual." Sam said as they exited the house a few minutes later. They walked down the path to the Impala, already unbuttoning the neck of each of their shirts. Dean especially hated wearing the stupid monkey suits.

"These names will help though," Dean replied, scooting into the driver side door. "What do you think these girls were into?"

"I don't know, man. Could be anything. I'll call Bobby and see what he has to say about the whole thing." Sam said, pulling out his cell phone. "Either way this is definitely a case." he added and Dean sighed, knowing that it was true.


	3. Chapter 3

*****************************January 24, 1997*****************************

Elita awoke with a weird tingling in her stomach. As she sat up and rubbed the bad nights rest from her eyes, she again thought about her plans with Dean that night. Why had she agreed to go out with him again?

Oh yeah, the fact that he's _gorgeous_. She reminded herself. She sighed, running her hands through her hair. He'd been living in her house for ten days and there had been no escaping him. What with his need to constantly invade her personal space, and the fact that he was there to protect her.

All the hunters were taking shifts. She barely had any time alone. Usually she would hang out in one of the larger rooms so she wasn't alone with a single hunter- because, frankly, they crept her out and she didn't like most of them. A few of the hunters were okay, then there were the ass holes. Like the jock strap that insulted Sammy the first time the boys showed up at the house. She didn't like him. In fact, she wouldn't mind taking a machete to him just cause he was a sketchy guy.

Dean was the only one she spent any alone time with. When it was his turn to watch over her for a few hours, they'd go out to the garage or hang out with Sammy. Dean was cool that way; he was cool about hanging out with his little brother. Most guys would kick Sam out and tell him to butt out. But Dean wouldn't. Of course Elita would have to recommend it because Dean had sick fantasies about them getting in on and Sam wasn't included in those dreams; but if she suggested it, Dean would go along.

But she had to admit, she had a few fantasies of her own creation. Dean was undeniably attractive. And maybe it was just because of his cocky attitude or the role he played in her life as a protector. Or maybe it was just because you could bounce a coin off his ass. Either way, he appealed to her. He was a bad boy; and she definitely liked bad boys.

Sighing again, Elita shuffled out of bed and over to her bathroom where she showered and got dressed. She threw on jeans and a t-shirt without thinking, and then went back to change again. She caught herself thinking about what Dean would like to see her in before she slapped herself out of it, threw on a Bad Company shirt and her Chuck Taylor high tops and headed out of the room a little after eight o'clock. She kept a Smith and Weston 500 on her person at all times but with the new jeans she was wearing there wasn't much give in the waistband for a gun. So she left it in her locked nightstand, figuring she wouldn't need it- after all, she wasn't planning on leaving the house and there were plenty of men with guns inside the house.

She casually walked downstairs and into the kitchen where she grabbed a cup of coffee. She hopped up onto the counter as she drank and marveled at the quietness of the house. Hunters seemed to always sleep in. But Elita barely slept. Ever since she killed her first demon in fourth grade, she didn't sleep much. Too many nightmares and too many monsters out to get her.

There were always one or two people awake at this hour, usually because they didn't sleep the night before. And today it was John Winchester. He came into the kitchen with his riffle by his side. He too, grabbed a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter next to Elita.

"Have you figured it out yet? What I know, I mean." Elita challenged easily as she took a slow sip from her black coffee. John sighed exasperatedly.

"Why are you so stubborn?" he asked and Elita smirked at him.

"How else am I going to get away with being so damn adorable?" she replied sarcastically, hopping back down off the counter. John put his coffee down and grabbed her arm.

"This information is important-" he began before she cut him off.

"I don't know anything, Winchester!" she whisper yelled, not wanting to wake anyone up. "I don't know who told you I have information, but I don't. I don't know anything, John." she stated bluntly and turned to walk away. But John grabbed her arms again.

"Don't play stupid with me, Elita. I know you have information. You know where the son of a bitch is and I want you to tell me." John yelled as Elita tried pulling herself free, but he was too strong.

"Go to hell, Winchester." she shouted at him, finally getting free and heading towards the kitchen archway so she could retreat back to her bedroom. "Oh and for the record," she said, swiveling back around. "Today is your son's birthday. I don't know, maybe you want to wish Dean a happy eighteenth birthday. Just a thought." she told him and left the room.

As she marched down the hall she ran directly into Sam who was just waking up. "I'm sorry, Sammy." she said, steadying the both of them.

"It's okay." Sam replied glumly. He looked up at her, sighing. "He's too stubborn to take your advice, you know?" Sam said, referring to his father. "He's like Dean in that respect."

Elita sighed as well. "Yeah, I know. But someone has to stand up to him, right?"

"Sure; glad it was you and not me."

"Why's that?"

"Like he'd listen to me. He never listens to me. I'm just little Sammy to him…and Dean! Neither of them listen to me or my ideas or my problems. Dean's better then dad, but…" Sammy let his sentence drain out and Elita put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sammy," she said and waited for him to look her in the eye. "You have to do whatever makes you happy. If hunting makes you happy, then go ape shit and kill every evil son of a bitch you see. But if you want normal, you have to chase normal, Sam. If you don't want to follow in your dad's footsteps and head into the family business then don't. Do what makes you happy, Sammy, always." she said honestly, bringing the little boy she thought of as a brother into her arms.

She mussed Sam's hair when they pulled back and she looked around a second to make sure no one was near. "Can you keep a secret, Punk?" she whispered and Sam eagerly nodded his head.

"When this is all over and I'm free; I'm headed for normal. Maybe college, a house somewhere in a small town. No ghosts, no evil, nothing." she told him and Sam's eyes widened.

"You are?" he asked in wonderment. He'd never met a single person who followed the life of a hunter but didn't want to. He was used to Dean, who blindly followed John.

"Yup, I'm getting out of here. And if _I_ can-" She put emphases on that, because of her abnormalities. "-then you certainly can, Sam. You just can't be afraid to take a leap of faith."

"But what about Dean? He's a pain in the ass…but I love him." Sam replied glumly.

"I don't have anyone looking out for me, Sam. I'm all alone here so I have nothing to lose. Its okay for you to think about your brother, just don't put him above yourself. You have to do what's best for you; and sometimes that's not what's best for him. Your going to bump heads- it's inevitable."

"But what if he hates me, Elita?"

"Dean will never hate you, Punk, no matter what you do. He's your big brother and that'll never change. He'll always look out for you, he'll always love you and he'll always give you a hard time." Elita said with a chuckle. "Sure, he'll get mad at you and you might even get to the point where you don't talk for a while. But blood is blood, Punk. You can't change who your family members are."

******************************Present Day********************************

Sam was waiting outside in the car while Dean was inside questioning one of the girls on Eric's list. Sam was absently flipping a blade back and forth in his hands when Dean sauntered back out to the Impala and got in whistling.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked, sitting up.

"Two words Sammy- Hot. Mom." Dean replied, whistling again. Sam sighed exasperatedly as Dean started the car up and pulled out of the apartment parking lot.

"I meant about the case, Dean. Did you get any answers?"

"Yes…they're real." Dean said smirking but cut it out when Sam didn't laugh along. "Okay, Jennifer was new to the group of girls Darla hung out with. But she was definitely involved in some crazy hoodoo."

"Like what?"

"Jennifer said Darla would find spells online and try to recreate them. She called herself a witch." Dean told him as they drove in the direction of the motel they were staying at.

"So you think she barked up the wrong tree? Maybe disturbed some unhappy ghosts."

"I don't know, man. Jennifer said she sucked at it. None of her spells worked, she would screw up the chants and whatnot. It didn't sound like Darla was an amazing witch to me."

"So where do we go from here, then?"

Dean thought for a minute, fidgeting in his seat. "Umm," he murmured, still thinking. "I have no clue.

**LINE-**

"You two idjits got any leads yet?" Bobby asked Dean over the phone the next day.

"No, nothing so far. But we're still searching. It's definitely our case though." Dean replied, taking a big bite of pie.

"What do you mean?"

"Darla was into witchcraft; and I mean the real stuff. She thought she was a witch. Turns out she sucks at it."

"So what are you thinking killed her then? If it wasn't a pissed off ghost."

"I don't know. But I think it was a ghost. Maybe they weren't pissed because Darla was waking their friends, rather pretending to." Dean suggested, cleaning up the plate he'd used.

"I'm listening." Bobby replied skeptically. Dean riffled through his bag for his laptop and opened it on the table. He'd stayed up almost all night researching this stuff.

"Do you remember a few years ago when those guys were pretending to be hunters. Those Hellhound/Ghostfacers dudes."

"Yeah, I remember. Those morons almost got you and Sam killed."

"Yeah, well the posers really pissed Sam and me off- not to mention you. Not just because they're all complete tools, but because they were pretending to be what we really are. They're fake hunters." Dean stated, pulling up some of the websites he'd been searching last night on his laptop.

"Okay, I'm following you."

"I'm thinking this girl pissed off the real deal. Whether she pissed off a real ghost or a real witch, I'm not sure yet." Dean offered and waited for Bobby's response.

"No that's good. That's a good lead, Dean. I'll check out local reports for missing persons and mysterious deaths. I'll let you know what I find." Bobby said and Dean could already hear the typing of his keyboard in the background.

"Thanks Bobby."

"Oh and Dean?" Bobby said at the last second. "I'm guessing you heard about the Madison fire recently."

Dean froze with the phone to his ear. "Yeah I heard. Why?" Dean replied stiffly.

"That kind of situation isn't normal, son. If Elita really did leave this life for the path of normalcy, she sure sucks at it."

"What's your point, Bobby?"

"If I get a call…do you want to know?" Bobby replied cautiously.

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Whenever she gets in trouble, she shoots me a call. If she's in trouble again and she calls me, do you want to know, Dean? If she's in town maybe-" Bobby started before Dean cut him off.

"No. I don't care if she calls you, I don't care if she's in town, Bobby." Dean retorted then hung up the phone before Bobby had a chance to drill into him for lying.


	4. Chapter 4

*****************************January 24, 1997*****************************

Elita leaned over the engine of her 68' Road Runner later that afternoon. She was still a little riled up about John and her talk with Sammy. She'd never told anyone about her desire for normalcy. It was a secret she kept locked up within her for fear of being laughed at. How was a half angle child supposed to find something normal?

She had the opportunity to dive into the world of boring ass normalcy two years ago when her parents died, but she didn't know where to go. She was fourteen and she was all alone. So she went to the only person who's ever shown her love outside of her mother and Al. She went to Bobby Singer.

It took eighteen hours for her to illegally drive from Akron, Ohio, to Bobby's home in South Dakota. But when she got to Bobby's place, she knew she wasn't going to leave. Bobby was the kind of guy who you knew you could trust. He may not have been the most physically helpful- not a man looking for a hug- but he helped her through the hardest time in her life; and she would always be in his debt because of that.

She eventually got up on her feet again and in the following months Bobby helped her buy her own house an hour away in Madison county. Unfortunately she'd destroyed her mothers 1968 Road Runner in her pursuit to Bobby's and it thus refused to run. But she was working on it.

That's all she did in her spare time. She listened to music, read sometimes and messed around inside her car, fixing her up. The goal was to have her up and running within the next two years so she could hit the road. She'd be eighteen and that's when she'd set freedom as a priority. For now though, she settled for what life threw at her; ever dreaming away of a time when all this was behind her.

Elita was dreaming of freedom, tinkering with the engine, when she saw something sparkle above her head. She slowly looked up to see a ring dangling above her. It was attached to a rawhide string and swaying back and forth in front of her eyes. She leaned back from the hood to see Dean standing next to her car, dangling the ring with a smile.

"What's that?" she asked skeptically. Her voice went monotone as she controlled her emotions, even through the sound of her voice. Years of bottling things inside, and one learns to flatten their tone on command.

"Yours." Dean replied simply, dangling it closer to her.

"I didn't lose it." Elita replied as flippantly as she could manage. Dean chuckled, still dangling the ring in front of her nose.

"Happy birthday." Dean told her with a smile and she finally reached out for the ring. He let it drop into her hand where she examined it. It was a simple silver band with small rope work wrapping around the sides of the band while a pentagram was featured in the middle. Elita couldn't think of anything to say.

"I don't really wear rings," she whispered then felt like a moron. He took the time to buy her a ring, and what does she say? She doesn't wear rings. She mentally slapped her palm to her forehead.

"I predicted that much," Dean said, reaching into his back pocket. "So, I got this to go along with it." He pulled out a silver necklace chain and handed it to her. "So you can wear it as a necklace instead of as a ring."

Elita just stared for a long minute. She still couldn't think of anything to say. Because no one outside of her family had ever done anything quite as thoughtful for seemingly no other reason then to wish her a happy birthday. It was one thing for Dean to get her a present, it was another for it to be this pretty, but it was a whole different story for him to anticipated her lack of interest in rings. She couldn't wrap her mind around the whole thing. Not only had he gotten her a beautiful ring as a birthday gift, but he'd also taken notice to her lacking taste in jewelry.

"Pentagrams are supposed to be really powerful in keeping away evil spirits. It also spreads though many different religions-" Dean told her but she stopped him.

"Help me put it on." she requested, handing it to him. He smiled like a little boy as he took the ring and necklace in his hands. He strung the ring onto the necklace the latched it. He was careful and precise as he pulled it over her head. He'd gotten an extra long chain so she could hide it if necessary by tucking it into her shirt- or if she was working on her car.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you, Dean. I wish I'd gotten you something."

"Don't sweat it. I went to the store last night to get it. I felt like you deserved a little attention." Dean replied offhandedly, shrugging his shoulders with his hands in his pockets. They smiled at each other and she grabbed the wrench off the counter.

"You know anything about cars?" she asked, scooting over to allow him access under the hood of the Road Runner. He scooted into place and leaned over the engine, placing his hands on the sides for support.

"I know a thing or two," he replied, undermining his abilities. "Why?"

"I can only whack it so many times before I have to call in for help." she teased, handing him the wrench.

******************************Present Day********************************

Sam woke Dean up early in the morning, slapping his leg repeatedly. "Wake up, man. Our wannabe witch may have gotten some one else killed." Sam told a groggy Dean.

Dean rolled over sleepily and rubbed his eyes, not bothering to sit up. "What?" he asked, hoarse.

"We have another death." Sam replied, going to the table where he picked up the newspaper and chucked it at Dean's head. "An elderly man was found dead this morning in his bed."

Dean grabbed the newspaper and began reading, rubbing his tired eyes. He froze for a minute with his jaw fallen slack. "What?" Dean questioned rhetorically, reading and rereading the story a few times. He shuffled his legs off the bed so he was sitting on the edge.

"Tell me they got this wrong." Dean demanded and Sam shook his head, taking a seat in the bed parallel to Dean's.

"Nope, you read it right and they wrote it right." Sam replied and Dean racked a hand down his face.

"You mean to tell me that the cops found a poor old dude dead this morning…skinned alive?" Dean asked uncomprehendingly and Sammy nodded. "What the hell." Dean's favorite term.

"I do not want to see the body, but we definitely need to see the crime scene." Sam replied, getting back up and getting ready for the day. Whereas Dean stayed seated, rereading the story.

"What the hell man." was all he mumbled as he got out of bed and began getting ready.

* * *

><p>Dean was driving over to old man Richards home after stopping off at the police department to get the police report. Sam was reading it aloud while they drove but none of it made sense.<p>

"It says here," Sam read. "That his wife died a week and a half ago. It says she died of a heart attack. No wonder, she was on enough medications to lay out an elephant. I can't imagine taking pills every morning. What if you get them mixed up? You don't play around with medications, especially when they're strong prescriptions like these. One misplaced pill and its lights out granny." Sam rambled.

"Well the wife didn't kill him. So what else do we have?" Dean asked, pulling up in front of the old house.

"Nothing. He was old and alone. He has no ties to Darla Savage either."

"Wonderful," Dean mumbled as he got out of the Impala. Sam threw the police report in the seat and hopped out, following Dean.

Dean stood watch as Sammy picked the lock to the empty house and they crept inside. "Whoa," was the first word to leave Dean's mouth. "It looks like a freaking nursing home in here." Whitewash walls, plastic covered upholstery, everything with a place and everything in its place. It gave Dean the creeps. And the urge to ruin everything.

"If you're not going to live in a nursing home, why would you set your house up like one?" Dean wondered aloud as they moseyed around the house. Sam, of course, didn't answer as he lead the way into the kitchen. Dean was checking cabinets while Sam headed over to the counter with a swiveling rack of medicine bottles.

"Dean, check it out." Sam said and Dean made his way over to Sammy. "Prescriptions for both Mr. and Mrs. Richardson; all powerful enough to kill anyone who's not careful with them."

"It looks like they kept them in order…" Dean murmured as he riffled through the pills. Sam went to look around upstairs while Dean opened each and every bottle and pill divider.

"Hey Sammy," he called upstairs after a few minutes. Sam came back downstairs a minute latter, a disgusted look on his face. "What?"

"They didn't change the sheets." was all Sam said and they both cringed. "What do you have?"

"They kept track of their pills perfectly, but Tuesday- the day Mrs. Richardson died- and every day after that, the pill container was empty. As far as I can tell, she took one set of pills in the morning and a different set at night. But neither case was full." Dean told him, showing him the evidence. "Also, old man Richardson filled his at the beginning of the week- which is why his pill case for this week is full."

"And he was in charge of his wife's medication so he would've filled hers at the beginning of the week as well." Sam interjected.

"But granny's case is empty and old man Richardson's is full. Each morning and night slot usually would've been filled."

"And she died in the afternoon. Even if she'd taken her morning pills, she still wouldn't have taken her nightly dose yet so they should've still been in there." Sam added.

"Either someone screwed up granny's meds or they were anticipating her death. Who needs pills when you're six feet under?" Dean summed up. And Sam sighed.

"Are we saying old man Richardson killed his wife?" Sam asked and Dean tossed the empty pill container to the counter.

"And maybe she came back for revenge."

* * *

><p>As the boys were working the case, Bobby kept in sporadic touch. It wasn't until Dean came home to a message on his cell phone that he returned Bobby's "urgent message."<p>

"What's going on, Bobby?" Dean asked as he sat in the car waiting for Sam to finish up talking to another one of Darla Savage's friends.

"I know you told me not to call you, but I frankly don't give a damn. I got a call from Elita." Bobby replied, bullheaded yet again.

Dean racked a hand down his face, sighing. "And?" he asked, curiosity and concern winning out over self-preservation. Just hearing about her could make Dean go insane. He hated to think of her that way, but Elita was the one that got away.

"She's okay. She torched her Madison home herself because of the hot spot it was. She'd come up to gather things and within two days she said she had four very unwelcome visitors." Bobby replied and Dean couldn't believe she'd been an hour away and he hadn't known.

"So she took what she wanted," Bobby continued. "And torched the rest. She's okay though. In fact…" Bobby's tone shifted and his sentence trailed off.

"'In fact what Bobby?" Dean asked impatiently and he heard Bobby sigh.

"She's been living in West Haven for a year or so now. That's only forty-five minutes or so from Salt Lake City." Bobby said smoothly and Dean heaved a sigh.

"Real subtle, Bobby."

"I do what I can." Bobby replied sarcastically. "Seriously though, Dean. You should plan a trip up there. Who knows what will come of it. But you should visit her. She sounded a bit lonely on the phone."

"Someone can't _sound_ lonely, Bobby. Not over the phone." Dean reminded him. And for the next ten minutes, Dean tried to get Bobby off his back, refusing to even consider the forty-five minutes drive to West Haven to see her. But in his head; Dean was already making contingency plans.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So sorry it took me so long to post this! My computer crashed a while back and I only now got a chance to fix it. And since you've waited so patiently for me to update, I've given you two chapters :)) And the next is Dean and Elita's big birthday dinner XD ENJOY!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: THE BIG BIRTHDAY DINNER! XD

*****************************January 24, 1997*****************************

Elita stood in front of her mirror, looking herself over for another minute. She'd spent more time getting ready then she ever had. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to dress; if she should dress up or if jeans and a tee-shirt would do. And what to do with her hair?

She heaved a sigh and fell to the floor of her bedroom. She'd never thought so hard about a single guy in her life. She'd dated plenty men and she'd done enough dinner dates to save her life; but she'd never been this nervous before. It was like her stomach was in knots and her brain wasn't thinking straight. She was a hot mess!

She'd gotten a shower and taken the time to brush out her hair into loose waves but other then that, she'd done nothing else to get ready. All she did was stand in front of the mirror in her underwear, staring at herself. She hated dressing up but it would be worth it if she could catch Dean with his jaw on the floor. It would be worth wearing _heels _if Dean reacted appropriately.

She was still looking in the mirror, laying awkwardly on her bedroom floor in nothing but her black undies and a black bra. She had her new necklace on and she reached down to examine it. It didn't look cheap. But of course, Dean didn't spend too much money on her. After all, hunting isn't exactly a major league sport and one can only spend so much on fake credit cards.

She scooted on her knees over to her closet and sat on the floor of her closet, staring up at her limited amount of clothes. She owned one dress and it had frills and it was pink. She'd used it when Bobby and her went to buy her house. She'd played spoiled child for the day and she'd had so much fun tormenting Bobby.

Other then that she didn't have much in the way of fancy things. It was mostly jeans and tee-shirts, boots and sneakers.

She slowly stood up, grabbing her only pair of heels- black pumps- off the floor. She'd wear what she wanted to wear, and if Dean didn't like it then he'd just have to deal with it. She went over to her dresser and grabbed a pair a jeans that she'd ripped holes in over the years. And out of her top drawer, she pulled out a slightly oversized, blue Mickey Mouse sweater.

She was quick to get dressed now that she knew what to wear. She didn't have much in the way of make-up either so it was a little eye shadow, eye liner, mascara and lip gloss and she was done. She walked over and stood in front of the mirror again, looking herself over. And finally, she liked what she saw.

She reached into her sweater and pulled out the necklace Dean gave her so it was visible. She really did like the necklace. It was simple but very pretty; not to mention it came from Dean, who could probably make a dead rat look amazing.

As she put the finishing touches on her outfit, a knock sounded on the door. She called to let them in and Sammy walked in a second latter.

"Dean says to get your ass downstairs." he said nonchalantly as he fell down onto her bed. She chuckled at him, mussing his hair as she left the room. "You look pretty, by the way." he said shyly as they walked down the hall.

She smiled, tossing her arm around his shoulders. "Thanks, Punk."

"Happy birthday." he said when they hit the bottom step and then he disappeared.

Dean was waiting in the front room with John, who was giving his son the only cell phone they had. It had taken Elita and Dean a lot of groveling but they got away with one night out. No one was happy about it- because they were there to protect her, and if she wasn't home, they couldn't do their jobs. But John convinced everyone that Dean would look after her and so everyone else treated it as Dean's shift- only instead of heading out to the garage, they were heading out to eat.

Dean handed Elita her jacket and put his on as well, then they headed outside with everyone watching from various windows in the house. They headed out to the Impala and Dean hopped into the drivers side and Elita jumped into the passenger seat.

"Just to let you know," Dean said as he started up the car. "My dad is more worried about the car then you." he teased and Elita smiled.

"I can handle my own. I'm not sure about you behind the wheel though." she retorted and Dean smirked at her. "Where are we going?" she asked conversationally as Dean drove out of her neighborhood.

"A little place we passed on the way into town." Dean replied easily.

"I'm guessing it's a no-reservations-required kind of place." she teased, picking at the collar of his leather jacket. Dean smacked her hand away playfully.

"Not exactly. It's a little diner. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah that sounds great. We have some really amazing diners around here. Real, down country home food."

"That's the best there is," Dean agreed.

They made polite chitchat the rest of the way and Dean held the door for her when they arrived at Second Street Diner. She'd been to the place before- on the rare occasions that she was let out of the house.

Their orders were taken almost right away due to the lack of customers and they were all alone in their booth with no one around, but they didn't really try that. It was your typical small town diner.

"They have great apple pie here." she said as they sat waiting for their food. Dean nodded approvingly.

"We'll get pie then." he replied, folding his arms over the table and just looking at her. She looked down at her lap, uncomfortable with the attention.

She got a lot of attention. She tested out of high school but when she was going, she got _a lot_ of attention. The boys all stared at her, and she'd be the first to admit she used to exploit that. She still did. And she probably always would. Why not work what you have?

She could get men to do virtually anything she wanted them to, as long as she swung her hips this way or flipped her hair that way. Her boobs alone had gotten worthy men on their knees. She was beautiful- that much was painfully obvious- and she saw no problem in flaunting it, as long as she did it tastefully. She would never wear whorishly tight clothes or extremely low cut shirts and tiny skirts. But then again she didn't have to.

Dean's jaw nearly dropped when she walked down the stairs, and she was wearing a sweater and jeans. It was the curve of her body, the silky flow of her hair, the shimmer in her eyes and the attitude in her walk. She didn't need clothes and fancy creams. She was an example of beauty in one of its purest form.

Their food came and they chatted politely. They shared laughs and they teased each other _a lot_. They were both having a genuinely good time- and that was the first time in a long time for both of them. After dinner, they sat at the table eating their pie, but things got quiet. For once, Dean wasn't talking.

"I talked to Sammy this afternoon." Dean said quietly, looking down at his pie. "He told me about what happened in the kitchen this morning with you and Dad."

"Dean-" she tried to interject but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Let me finish." Dean requested then continued. "My mom was killed when I was four years old. The yellow eyed demon went after Sammy when he was just a few months old. My mom walked in on him and he killed her. My dad gave Sammy to me and I ran out of the house with him while Dad tried to save her. He failed, and ever since then he's been on the hunt for the son of a bitch who killed her. He believes you know about the yellow eyed demon. He wanted to know so he can get revenge. That _thing_ killed my mom and it would've killed Sammy too. If you know anything, Lita. You have to tell us." Dean said passionately.

Elita fiddled with her finger nails. She couldn't look Dean in the eye. He'd told her that story with amazing passion in his eyes and at the moment she wanted nothing more then to hug him because he was still in pain.

Elita was going to respond when the waitress came back over for their plates. And by the time the woman left, Dean had settled down and humor was back on his face. But Elita wanted to get something off her chest.

"I've known Bobby all my life." Elita said, staring at the coffee rings on the table. "When I was a few months old, demons came after me and my mom. So she ran to Bobby for help. He was watching over me while my mother went to find some other hunters. He saved my life when I was seven months old, when a demon came to my crib and tried to slit my throat. Bobby stopped him, saved me and he's never thought twice about doing so again. When my mom met Al, we moved back to Ohio and I rarely saw Bobby anymore. Of course we kept in contact through phone calls and letters and on holidays he might send a gift or something. We'd visit every few years or when we needed help. But he was always there in the back of my mind. So when my mom and Al died, I went to Bobby for help. I drove from Ohio to South Dakota to stay with Bobby when I was at my weakest and loneliest." Elita paused to gather herself, as a few tears had slipped from her eyes.

Clearing her throat, she started again. "He took me in, saved me again and helped me get back on my feet. I've been living here ever since. Not a single day passes that I don't wish my mom was still around. Not a single day goes by that I don't wish things could've been different."

Elita rarely told anyone anything personal. And it wasn't just because Dean had told her about his past; rather she just wanted him to know. She felt connected to Dean in a weird way and she wanted him to be in on her secrets. She was inviting him into her little world. She hoped it didn't back fire.

"Can't change the past," Dean huffed, sitting back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. "Unfortunately," he tagged onto the end.

Elita reached across the table to grab his pocket knife- which he'd set aside him. She began twirling it skillfully. "Dean," she said and waited for him to look her in the eye. She twirled the knife as she spoke. "I don't know anything about ol' yellow eyes. The only reason John thinks so is…because I hear things."

"What like a gossip mill?" Dean asked, his curiosity more then peeked.

"More like radio. But the things I hear aren't normal. Because of my father, I hear angels. All the time. Their…chatter." Elita said and waited for him to respond but he didn't he just blinked. "I hear things I shouldn't- and that's why some people want me dead- but I don't know anything about the yellow eyed demon. I swear, Dean."

"Then why does my dad think you do?"

"Cause he's a Winchester and stubborn as hell."

* * *

><p>After dinner, they drove around aimlessly for a while in order to avoid going back to the full house. They didn't have a destination in mind but Dean kept driving. They kept talking, but the mood had shifted. Instead of super light banter, they were sharing experiences.<p>

Dean told her about the first few evil sons of bitches he killed and the first guns he owned. She told him about her mom and Al and the life they had. They shared hunting stories (because she was raised as a hunter until her parents died).

Elita chuckled at the morbid turn their conversation had taken. But she was still having a good time. Dean was fun to be around and he wasn't completely obsessed with getting in her pants- which was different from what she was used to.

"You do not." Dean denied adamantly and Elita's jaw dropped. She punched his shoulder.

"I do too, Winchester."

"Your house is completely full of hunters twenty-four-seven. How the hell do you _get around_?" Dean retorted with a smirk.

"Ever heard of a concept called _sneaking out_?" she replied and he eyed her skeptically. They'd pulled over in a field and so they were both inverted in their seats facing each other.

"You sneak out, get laid and go back to bed?" Dean challenged and Elita quirked a smile.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"No…not at all." Dean replied cheekily. Elita stuck her tongue out at him and pulled herself from the car. "Where are you going?" Dean asked, following her with a flashlight as she ran off into the field.

He watched her run off with a smile but turned back to check on the Impala once more before he ran off after her. But when he turned around and shown his flashlight where he'd last seen her, he saw nothing but open field.

"Lita?" he called after her, shinning his flashlight in every which direction. "Lita!" he yelled louder, his heart pounding a bit faster. "This really isn't funny. If I come home without you, its my head on a platter, Lita. Come back here!" he screamed but no one replied.

He ran out into the field and shown his light in every direction but he couldn't find her. His heart was about to beat out of his chest, scared for her and for the ass kicking he'd receive if he lost her. He ran every direction and searched everywhere but even after a few minutes Dean still couldn't find her. He screamed her name angrily and ran around aimlessly.

He shown his flashlight in front of him and caught the tale end of a shadow. So he ran towards it with his flashlight positioned ahead. He caught the shadow again, and this time the outline was unmistakable. He smirked as he shown the light after Elita. But it vanished again before he could find her.

And as he was shining his light all around, a hand crept up his chest. He looked down just in time to catch Elita an inch away from him before she reach up and kissed him. She grabbed his rough face in her hands and pulled her lips up to his, kissing him with a smile.

Dean's lips were soft against hers but when he kissed her back, he was rough and almost volatile in manner. And she liked it.

"Got cha." he whispered against her lips as they kissed. He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her closer, still kissing her. She gave in to desire and wrapped her hands around his neck, curling her fingers around his short hair. He pulled her up off the ground, dropping the flashlight.

Her feet were barely on the ground a second before he pushed her up against a tree. He worked a trail of kisses down her throat. His hands on her hips were tight but in a none threatening way, and his finger grazed her stomach under her shirt. His hands were rough and calloused from years of experience with his hands. As he wrapped his hand around her hips, his whole hand went under her shirt and she nearly moaned.

Her little hands reached to him but she couldn't grab a hold of him for he was too big. She wrapped her hands around the base of his neck, sliding her hands down the back of his shirt. She wanted that damn piece of clothing off him, now. She wanted it all off him and she wanted her clothes off too.

"Dean," she whispered as he nibbled on her ear. She pulled back and bit her lip as she looked him in the eye. "Let's go back to the car." she whispered and a shiver ran up Dean's spine.

He leaned forward and scooped her up onto his shoulder, grabbed the flashlight and headed back towards the car. She laughed uproariously and asked if he knew where he was going.

"Don't worry. My baby calls to me." he replied with a chuckle as he walked. It wasn't long until his baby called him all the way back to her.

Dean sat Elita back down on her feet, but he was invading her space again. He was standing within an inch of her, just looking in her eyes. He lifted his hand to her face and touched her cheek lightly. She leaned into his tough hand, savoring the feeling. He held her face between his hands as he kissed her again.

It was still cold out and so Dean went to turn on the heat in the car. As he did so, Elita snuck into the backseat. When Dean turned around, she was laying down with her sweater already pulled off. Dean quickly came around and opened the back door, slipping out of his jacket and throwing it in the front seat. He leaned over her, bringing her lips to his.

He leaned back and took his necklace off, laying it in the front seat. He pulled his shirt over his head and Elita's hands immediately went to his chest as he leaned back down to kiss her once more. The feeling of their skin connecting made Elita moan and after days of imagining the feeling, she finally knew what it felt like to be with Dean. And it far surpassed her imagination.

Dean leaned back and looked her in the eye as he unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slid them down her legs. She stared up at him, need burning hot in her eyes. And the way he looked at her was indescribable. Like, despite every belief she'd ever once known, Dean cared about her. Not just about her safety and wellbeing. And he wasn't faking it for sex.

Looking in his eyes, Elita found pure compassion in Dean's beautiful green eyes. She wasn't sure if she could mach the level of benevolence in her own eyes but she knew she felt it. And over every demon, angel and fucked up creature out there, nothing scared Elita more then the tenderness in Dean's touch and the passion in his eyes.

Elita wrapped her arms around Dean's waist, pulling him down to her. She was enveloped by all of Dean as he kissed his way up and down her neck. Her fingers dug into his back as she arched towards him and they moaned in unison.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: I'm really sad that I've gotten to chapter six and I haven't gotten any reviews yet :(( I'm getting hits but no reviews, can we change that pleasee? :)

*****************************January 25, 1997*****************************

Dean got chewed out by his father for keeping Elita out all night but Dean couldn't have cared less. He'd spent the night with the single most amazing woman alive. Nothing his father did or said could faze him.

Dean and Elita kept catching each others eyes as the day went on. She smile and blush, looking away as Dean admired from afar. But they still hadn't been able to talk about anything- especially the implications of last night. But Dean wasn't stressing it. They still had more time here and he would enjoy every minute of it.

Him and Sam were waiting in the den playing video games to pass the time. Elita was being watched by Frank, a hunter from Kentucky with an attitude. Frank wasn't Elita's biggest fan and he particularly didn't respect or appreciate her. So him and Elita were in the backyard as to not spend too much time together. Not alone at least. The number of hunters had diminished substantially. Frank, the Winchesters and one other hunter Jack were in the house as well as Elita. Dean liked it better that way- he took more shifts and got to spend more time with Elita that way.

"You're going down," Dean challenged his little brother as they started another football game. But Dean paused it quickly, Sam started to protest before he too heard what Dean had. They both dropped their controllers and rushed to the backyard, chasing the sound of Elita's screams. Dean grabbed a rifle off the counter before he burst through the backdoor. Elita was struggling with Frank as they yelled at each other.

"You bitch!" Frank screamed, attacking Elita angrily. She was already bleeding from a gash on her cheek and when Frank struck her again she fell backwards, her vision blurring as she became disoriented. As she fell defenselessly to the ground, Frank kept assaulting her. Dean swore at Frank as he ran to help Elita.

John and Jack showed up and helped pull Frank off of Elita, who was lying on the floor in a mess of trembling nerves. Sammy didn't know what to do. He was frozen still on the back porch, scared for everyone. He was scared for Elita and scared for Frank- because the look in Dean's eye was pure homicide. He couldn't move. The only thing he could do was wish he weren't there. Wish he were somewhere else, in school living a normal life.

"What the hell happened?" John asked loudly as he restrained Frank. Everyone watched as Dean tried to help Elita but she pushed him away viciously, wiping the blood from her lip and cheek. She was just about as angry as Frank. She stood up, refusing anyone's help.

"I told you I didn't know anything about your fucking wife!" she screamed at Frank. Dean thought for a second and remembered Frank's wife was killed a few years ago by a demon; but he didn't know how that connected to Elita.

"You lying bitch! He told me; the demon told me you knew. That's why I'm here. Now tell me what you know!" Frank bellowed, advancing towards Elita again. John and Jack restrained him again. The blood dripping from Elita's cheek was staining her shirt and her bloody lip was running in her mouth as she spit blood.

"Demons lie! I don't know shit; accept it." she yelled and headed back towards the house. John and Jack escorted Frank to the front of the house were they threw him in his car and forced him off the property. Sam was still frozen in horror but now Dean was as well. He'd never seen such anger in Elita before; and he didn't necessarily like it. He doubted she'd picked a fight but it was clear she'd gotten the shit beat out of her. Frank was a moron but he was still infinitely stronger then her. It killed Dean to see her bleeding and broken but when he'd tried to help she'd pushed him aside. And as he followed her up to her room, she was still ignoring me.

"Don't fucking touch me, Dean!" she yelled as he tried to get her attention. He stopped short as she slammed her bathroom door in his face. He could hear her cleaning up- wincing as she cleaned her cut. He waited for her to finish though (which was new for him). Normally when a girl created drama, he just walked away. But with Elita…it was just different. He didn't want to walk away from her. He wanted to make sure she was okay and safe. Before he found Frank and killed the son of a bitch.

Dean was sitting on the edge of her bed when she came back out of the bathroom sometime latter. She'd stopped bleeding but she was still breathing hard. She looked him in the eye for a long minute before she advanced towards him. She didn't say a word as she straddled his lap and pulled his face to hers in a deeply rough kiss. She held her body as close to his as she could.

"Fuck me, Dean." she whispered in his ear as she pulled her mouth from his to kiss his neck. "I need you to." she said and Dean's hands wound around her waist tighter but he didn't move an inch. He held her dangerously close as she assaulted his neck but he didn't make a single advancement. "Dean-" she began to whisper before he cut her off.

"Not until you tell me what the hell just happened." he bargained and she stiffened. She obviously didn't want to talk about it but he needed to know. She went to get off him but he held fast.

"I'll take care of myself then, let go." she said curtly, struggling to break free but he still held her and asked once more for her to explain what had happened. "Dean let me go! I'm not afraid to hurt you." But Dean still didn't let go. He moved though.

He flipped them and pinned Elita to the bed under him roughly. His weight fell on top of her, controlling her and forcing her arms above her head so she couldn't move. Frustrated tears built in her eyes but she fought them with everything she had. She _was not_ going to cry in front of anyone- let alone Dean Winchester.

"Tell me, Lita." he demanded, holding fast to her. She was breathing heavily and she could feel his chest constricting her. She couldn't move an inch. He was in complete control of her and she didn't like being at anyone's mercy.

"Screw you, Dean I don't have to tell you anything." she spat, turning her head away from his burningly intense green eyes. She felt him sigh, felt his chest fall further onto hers and felt his hot breath warm her cheek and rustle her hair. He tilted his head to find her eyes.

"You don't. But…I want you to." he said quietly. He was being more tender then he thought he was capable of. "Tell me what that was."

"Its my life, Dean." she finally admitted. "That's the sort of thing I put up with on a daily basis. Hunters think I'm privy to information, demons think I'm a glitch and the angels want me as an asset. Its why I want out of this god forsaken business, Dean. I'm sick of everyone using me! I just want normal so people will stop taking advantage of me."

"Bull shit, Lita!" Dean shouted and she froze still, shocked and a little scared. "_Never _back down from someone. You fight until you can't anymore. You and me, we're not made for normal lives. We'd get bored and we'd go stir crazy. Its just not in the cards for us. So you either embrace it or you kill yourself. So man-up and accept your reality, Lita. Don't pick fights with stronger people just because you can." Dean reprimanded and Elita just blinked.

He was wrong. 100% wrong. But somehow she didn't care. The passion in his eyes, the position they were in, the assertiveness in his tone and the pitch at which he yelled at her. She suddenly pooled with desire for him. She didn't break eye contact as she craned her neck up to him. She reminded him of her earlier request and finally he granted her wish.

******************************Present Day********************************

Dean pulled the Impala into a parking spot at the back of the morgue car port, avoiding other cars like John had taught him- avoiding scratches and mishaps to his baby. The boys headed into the morgue in their suits, ready with their fake FBI badges. The man at the front carded them and then again at the morgue door. But they got by both times with ease. It was almost eerie how easily one could impersonate an authority.

They decided a look see at Darla Savage's body was a good idea, just in case. They couldn't get a look at the body alone, but the M.E. at the local morgue was kind (ehem, dumb) enough to let them in and help them examine the body.

"Such a shame. So young," the medical examiner said sadly as he pulled Darla Savage's body out of the cooler. The boys examined her carefully, looking for any indication at all that she was something more then a typical teen age girl.

"Whoa," Sam mumbled as he lifted the side of the sheet covering the young girls body. On her left hip, she'd carved a pentacle into her own skin. It looked somewhat fresh; as if she'd done the damage within the last few weeks. Dean and Sam exchanged a loaded glance.

"She carved into her own skin?" Dean asked rhetorically, looking to the good doctor curiously.

"She was a good kid, detectives. Her and my daughter were good friends; I'd never say a bad thing against her." the medical examiner replied. "But," he continued. "She'd gotten mixed up in some things at school. Everyone was a little worried about her."

"Why was that never mentioned in any statements or police reports?" Sam asked quizzically, folding the sheet back over the girl.

"She's just a kid, no one wants to bad mouth a teenage girl." the medical examiner responded, shrugging. The boys took it at face value and left without moseying around waiting for someone to figure out they weren't for real.

But as they were driving home, Dean began rubbing his eyes. "Are you okay, man?" Sam asked, concerned. And Dean shook his head.

"Haven't been getting enough sleep." he said, shaking it off as if it were nothing. "So she's almost definitely a witch then?" he asked, distracting Sam and it worked for the time being.

"Probably. Carving a pentacle in your hip isn't exactly kosher behavior for a thirteen year old girl."

"How would we know? When I was thirteen, I'd already killed so many evil sons of bitches." Dean teased with a smirk. "You however, would know all about how prepubescent teenage girls think…considering you are one."

"You still aren't funny, Dean." Sam deadpanned and Dean's face dropped.

"Shut up," he said, smacking his brothers arm as he pulled into their motel parking lot. "But if she's dead, then how can this still be happening?" Dean asked as they got out of the car. He leaned against the hood and Sammy stood by the hood.

"I'm not sure. Maybe she woke something up; stirred something she didn't want around." Sam replied easily, shrugging.

"Yeah, but if that's true, what the hell is it? And what's it after? Taking a thirteen year old girl and an ancient man? What's the point?" Dean questioned as he unlocked the motel door.

"That's what we have to figure out, I guess."

* * *

><p>Sam was still sitting at the small dinning room table in the motel room where Dean had left him the next morning when he awoke. Even if Dean was barely getting any sleep, Sam seemed to have gotten even less then he. Dena stumbled out of bed and over to the table, plopping down next to his brother.<p>

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Dean asked as he yawned greatly.

"I dozed off for a half an hour with my face on the computer…other then that, no." Sam replied, still typing away furiously. "But I think I might know what we're dealing with here."

Dean perked up in his chair. "Oh yeah?"

"Stay with me," Sam pleaded, "I'm going to sound insane, but I need you to hear me out."

"Never start off like that, Sammy, now I'm prejudice. Go."

"I believe Darla may have summoned a genie." Sam said and the room went silent for a long few minutes. Dean started absently at Sammy as he tried wrapping his mind around the idea.

"A genie?" Dean asked mechanically.

"Yep,"

"A genie? As in, Aladdin, I Dream of Jeannie? A genie."

"Yeah, Dean, that's what I said."

"That's insane." Dean spat and Sam sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair.

"I don't know man, it makes perfect sense to me. Let's say Darla started practicing Wicca recently. She finds a spell to summon genies- what better chance do you get at having everything you want? How could she resist?" Same replied enthusiastically.

"But what did she wish for? And what does that have to do with the croaked geezer?" Dean challenged, only half believing genies were real.

"I don't know yet, but whatever she wished for, the genie turned it around on here. Everywhere you read about genies, they say how cunning and deceiving they are. So a genie could've easily outwitted Darla and she wound up dead." Sam replied convincingly.

"As for the elderly," he continued. "Mythology says that once a genie is released, its practically impossible to control them. I imagine the genie killed Darla and the next wish someone made, he decided to grant."

"Old man Richardson." Dean said, filling in the blank.

"Exactly. I'm with you one-hundred percent about Mr. Richardson killing his wife, but nothing in that house lead me to believe he actually hated her. Maybe he was just looking for a way out; and after he'd done the act, he regretted it."

"And wished his wife were back…" Dean said slowly. "So the genie brings her back; only she's dead-set on getting revenge (pun intended). That sure sounds evil and cunning. So let's pretend for a minute that its actually a genie…how the hell do we kill it?" Dean asked, rubbing his chin.

Sam sat forward, typing on his computer. "Well, contrary to Aladdin like beliefs, even if a genie is set free, it still has to grant wishes. But they are also immortal. So we have to make it mortal."

Dean froze again. "Sammy, are you trying to tell me that we not only have a genie messing with us, but the only way to kill it is to wish it were dead…?" Dean said with a blank look in his eyes and Sam just nodded.

"Once you wish it mortal, you can use your imagination- we can kill it any way we want. As long as its mortal first, this is an easy job."

"What are the risks?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Where do I start? I don't know, Dean. There are a lot of risks- like getting roped into a wish as well- but when aren't they're risks involved in this job?" Sam replied and Dan sighed.

"A genie…" he mouthed exasperatedly. "Really, man?" he sighed heavily in that Dean manner that meant he wasn't happy.


	7. Chapter 7

*****************************January 26, 1997*****************************

Things were tense at Elita's house. Dean wasn't sure what exactly was going on but he knew something was up. He'd spent the previous night in Elita's room. John just about shot him, but he didn't care too much. He and Elita had spent the night listening to music, arguing and making-out. Frankly, he couldn't imagine a better evening. He'd fallen asleep at the foot of her bed and when he woke up she was already in the shower. She was chipper for about an hour, then she snuck off and didn't return for quite some time and when she did she was bitchy. It confused Dean. Until he found her by the side of the garage with John.

"Tell me, Elita!" John yelled furiously. Dean peeked around the side of the house, he was out of view but he could see and hear them perfectly. John was angry- the fire in his eyes was intense. But he could also say the same for Elita. She was more frustrated then angry though.

"Why won't you believe me! I told you I don't know anything about the yellow eyed demon." she yelled back and Dean wanted to go to her defense. But he wouldn't risk angering his father like that.

"This is why I don't believe you." John yelled, grabbing her chin to gesture at her torn cheek from her fight with Frank. She yanked her face away roughly. She boiled with anger.

"You think I would get the shit kicked out of me on purpose? You think I'm keeping information from you people _just_ so you'll get angry?" she yelled, furiously confused. John just nodded.

"Pain is better then guilt." John retorted and Elita readied herself to punch him. But she remembered what Dean had said and instead, her fist connected with the garage wall. Her breathing was even harder then it was yesterday during her fight with Frank.

"I'd rather bleed then feel," she admitted, not looking at John. When she turned, she pulled her ring necklace out from under her shirt. "But _this_ is why I'd tell you. Because I care about Dean- and Sammy."

"That's exactly why you wouldn't." John countered. "If you tell me what you know, I take off; Dean and Sam with me. And you're alone again."

The look on Elita's face was nothing but hurt but she masked it quickly. "You know what, Winchester. Leave. Right now. Go ahead and pack your shit and take the boys with you and leave. Because I swear on my life I don't know anything. And I'd rather not pick a fight with you." she told him.

Dean had to cover his mouth to keep from screaming when John took a menacing step towards her. "Why? Because I would win?" John mused threateningly. Dean recognized the look on John's face. The same look as when he's interrogating monsters. He pinned her between his chest and the garage door.

"You could kill me with your bare hands," she admitted, standing up to him despite the circumstances. "But I'm not going to fight you, no matter what you do."

"Why not?" John asked curiously, still standing too close.

Elita looked up at him, moving out from under him. "You're so damaged," she murmured with a humorless chuckle. She took one step before John violently grabbed her arm and threw her against the garage wall. She winced as her head hit hard.

"I still don't believe you." he said and she nodded.

"I didn't think you would."

"If I find out you knew something…" John started, letting his sentence trail off before starting again. "Things aren't going to end for you kid. You aren't human, you're lucky I'm even here helping you." And with that, John walked away calmly.

Elita watched him leave before sinking to the floor, her head in her hands. Dean recognized her shaking shoulders as a sign of tears. He'd never been good with tears. He was frozen still. His father's actions outraged him. How could he say she wasn't human? You don't get to choose your parents; it wasn't her fault. John treated her like some kind of monster, something to interrogate rather then protect. Dean didn't know what to do.

He felt a tear slide down his own cheek as he watched the girl he'd fallen in love with cry hard tears because of John Winchester. Dean felt like throwing something, hitting something. He wished he had something to shoot at or punch. But he didn't. And he didn't know how to help so he turned back towards the house. And latter that night, John told his son they were leaving first thing in the morning.

******************************Present Day********************************

"So, how do we find the genie?" Dean asked, whispering the word. "What are we even looking for, man? A freaking magic lamp."

Sam gave his older brother a disapproving look as they walked around Darla Savage's room once more. "Jin dwell in caves actually. Dark- preferably damp- and creepy places." Sam said as he shuffled through Darla's bookshelf.

"What about abandoned warehouses?" Dean asked curiously. Sam thought for a second then nodded.

"Yeah that might work. It would have to be way out in the middle of nowhere but they could definitely shack up there."

"I think I know where to find Darla's genie then." dean said, tossing Darla's diary at Sam. The seemingly innocent little girl had everything evil listed in her diary. She'd detailed the suspected location of genie. A warehouse in South Weber, Utah.

They drove back to the motel to grab a few things and call Bobby then they headed out. Sam was looking through maps and data on his laptop just like Bobby was doing in South Dakota.

"Alright," Sam said, hanging up his cell phone and turning to Dean in the car. "That was Bobby; he says there are four abandoned warehouses in the area mentioned in Darla's diary. But only one of those warehouses is specifically located deep in a wooded area."

"Dark even during the day." Dean concluded as Sam nodded.

"Exactly; so I say we check there- at least first. What's up with you?" Sam asked, noticing the weird look on Dean's face.

"Nothing, what are you talking about?"

"You've got crazy eye going on. Like you're about to tuck and roll out of the car right now." Sam chuckled.

"I don't have crazy eye, Sam. I'm just thinking." Dean said, that look returning to his face.

"Thinking about what? What's wrong?" Sam questioned, tilting his head to the side.

Dean gave his brother a dirty look. "Can we please just drive? South Weber is only thirty minutes away; can we just drive in silence Sammy?"

"Fine whatever." Sam retorted and they fell into complete silence.

* * *

><p>Dean and Sam arrived in South Weber a half an hour latter- neither having said a word the whole time. Dean was first to get out of the car, slamming the door in his wake. They'd gathered equipment along the way and when Dean opened the trunk they had everything needed all ready for use.<p>

Dean grabbed his Colt- just in case- and the knife dipped in lambs blood and Sammy grabbed his sawed off. Even if their guns wouldn't kill the djinn, it would sure as hell slow him down.

The boys headed into the warehouse, flashlights poised and weapons ready. They knew from experience that it was easy to get trapped by a jinn but they weren't going to let that happen again. This time, it all would end where it started. They moved on.

* * *

><p>Once the djinn was killed and the boys were on the road again Sammy started questioning again.<p>

"Look," Dean said. "We just killed something evil. It was fast, easy and clean. Can we please take a second to celebrate?"

"I'm sorry Dean but you're not getting off that easy." Sam replied and Dean heaved a sigh. "What is going on with you? You've been quiet ever since we found out where that thing was."

Dean ran a hand down his face. "I talked to Bobby." he finally said.

"And?"

"Do you remember Elita McKee?" Dean asked and Sammy nodded. "Bobby said she's now living in West Haven- which was an hour away from this job. Bobby made sure I knew that. Then we find out that this thing is in South Webber, which brings us another half an hour closer to West Haven."

"So you think it's a sign? Like you're supposed to go see her?" Sam suggested and Dean shrugged one shoulder.

"I don't know man. It's been fourteen freaking years. Why the hell would she want to see me?"

"Dean," Sam said seriously, turning to better face his brother in the car. "You two had something serious fourteen years ago. I'd even go as far as saying you were both in love." Dean opened his mouth to say something but Sam held up a hand to stop him. "Let me finish." Sam said and Dean stubbornly complied. "Years don't change that kind of thing. Even if she's got a new life now, she's not going to slam the door on the face of a boy she once loved."

Sam and Dean sat in silence for a long time. They both knew Sammy was right but Dean really didn't want to admit it. Finally he sighed.

"I liked you better soulless." he grumbled.

Author's Note: Big thanks to xxjempa1112luvSPNxx for being the first to review :)) It made me very happy lol More to come guys? Pleasee


	8. Chapter 8

*****************************January 27, 1997*****************************

Dean was loading his and Sammy's things into the Impala while John loaded the weapons in the trunk. Dean watched Sam and Elita as they stood by the front door.

"Take care of yourself, Punk." Elita told him, musing his hair with a melancholy smile. Sam had pitched a fit the previous night when John told him they were leaving so suddenly. But John was a rock of stubbornness. He wouldn't budge. He was pissed at Elita and considered his job to be done. So he was walking away.

"You too, Elita." Sam replied, reaching up to kiss her on her good cheek. Elita smiled as she hugged Sam. They'd grown to be like siblings in the past two weeks. She really was going to miss him. And even though he'd been nothing but a pain in her ass the whole time, she wasn't all that happy to see John Winchester leave. He may have been annoying but he did a hell of a job keeping her protected.

As Dean and John were loading the car and Sammy went to get in, a 1971 Chevelle pulled into Elita's driveway. She nearly jumped Bobby when he got out of the car. She didn't care who was watching, she hugged him tight. "Hey, bug." he called as he hugged her back. But he was glaring at John Winchester out of the corner of his eye. Elita had called Bobby in late last night when she bumped into a crying Sammy who told her they were leaving. She wasn't sure how she'd hold up with both Sam and Dean gone. She would need a distraction and a loving, friendly face. So she'd called her only friend.

"Bobby Singer." Dean and Sam greeted, shaking his hand but smiling warmly at him. John also shook his hand, but their stares were menacing.

"So I hear you're ditching early." Bobby said to John with a quirk of an eyebrow. He didn't take it lightly when people messed with Elita. Of course he couldn't get worked up every time someone took a shot at her- for it was so frequent- but this one was different. Elita had been in tears when she called him. Not only was John breaking her heart, he was forcing Dean to as well. That didn't sit well with Bobby Singer.

"The job is done," John justified. Dean and Elita were trying not to look at each other and they both were fighting the urge to grab a hold one another and never let go. But there was no point. There was no point in getting emotional or trying to change things. There wasn't even a need for a goodbye.

Sam shuffled into the back seat and Dean sat in the passenger seat with the door open. He was flipping a pocketknife back and forth in his hand- just like Elita had taught him to. He peeked up at Elita out of the top of his eye as she stood by the door. He regretted it because as soon as they made eye contact he flinched forward. He couldn't control himself when he was with her. His hands wondered when they were _together_ and his mind wondered to her when they weren't. And when their eyes connected, he could barely fight the urge to run to her and scoop her into his arms.

The emotions he was feeling were all so new to him. Sure he'd been with a lot of women before, but he'd never felt so strongly about any of them. He never felt the urge to prolong any relationship and when it came time to ditch, he was never all that broken up about it. Now, he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of leaving her. He wanted to stay forever. Hell, he'd even considered the apple pie life she wanted- just because she'd mentioned it. He…loved her. He never thought that was possible.

As Elita stared into Dean's green eyes, she felt a piece of her heart break off from the rest. She could literally feel the fissuring of her heart as she came to terms with reality. She would probably never see Dean Winchester again. She'd never touch him or talk to him or smile at him. She'd never get annoyed by him and hit him or tease him again. She'd never be able to look into his eyes and know exactly what he was thinking. Her heart wouldn't skip a beat every time his rough hand caressed her skin. She'd never be _with_ him again and she'd never sleep on his chest again- like she had every night since their birthdays.

They both immediately looked away. Elita went back to the house with Bobby as Dean and his family drove away. Neither of them looked back and neither sad more then a word or two about it. But Dean flipped his pocketknife to remember her and Elita twirled her necklace.

Both fighting tears.

******************************Present Day********************************

West Haven was small but populated. Mostly soccer moms and business men. Small children growing up in suburbs with pretty girlfriends and golden retrievers. Everyone and everything had a place and everyone and everything was in its place. Lawns were evergreen and houses were whitewashed. Cars were shiny as were the people and everyone dressed perfectly. West Haven suburbia was the epitome of American Living.

And that's where Elita McKee somehow ended up. She'd left home when she was eighteen, leaving the world of hunting behind. She'd gone completely off the grid, telling no one besides Bobby Singer where she was. She lived in crappy places in small towns for years before she officially and thoroughly fell off everyone's radars. Both evil, good and those who hunt both were looking for Elita at one point.

But she'd done a good job of hiding. So now, life was easy. She'd come to West Haven three years ago, looking for the "apple pie" life every Better Home and Garden magazine praised. She wasn't sure if that's what she wanted, but she was willing to give it a shot.

For eighteen years she lived as a hunted hunter. For six years she lived in shadows, pretending not to exist. For four years after that she traveled the world wanting to see everything. And she tired living the "rebellious" life for a year, working at a bar and choosing nights over days. Nothing appealed.

Eventually she made her way to West Haven where she wound up staying. At least for three years. She started off as a mechanic working part time and living in a crappy apartment. Then she met Jesse Cooper and things changed. He was a good guy with a stable surgeons job and a handsome face. He fell in love with Elita instantly. Her wit, her beauty, everything about her made him want her. And eventually she'd come to feel the same.

They moved in together and began planning a wedding. But there would always be distance between them. If just because Jesse knew nothing of Elita's past. After all, if he did know, he wouldn't sleep through the nights. Sleep evades you when you know what's really lurking in the dark.

* * *

><p>"Call me as soon as your flight lands, okay?" Elita McKee told Jesse Cooper as he stood in the front doorway to their house. She reached up and kissed his lips sweetly, wrapping her hands around the base of his neck.<p>

"I promise to call as soon as I'm down. I promise, I promise." he replied as he kissed her. The last time he'd forgotten to call, she'd nearly jumped on a plane to go get him before she came to her senses and waited for his call. But just because she'd told him she was freaking out, didn't mean she told him everything. On the inside, she was picturing all the ways a monster could've gotten to him; she calculated all the different ways he could've been killed and mostly, she counted all the monsters who had it out for her. And when he got home three days latter, Jesse was greeted with a big hug and sex- just because he was okay.

"Go. You're going to miss your flight." she told him, shoving him towards the door. He grabbed his bags and headed out down the stairs but he stopped half way. "What?" she asked, standing in the doorway.

"Now that the Camry broke, what are you going to use to get around?" he asked, turning to face her. She smiled.

"I can use the Roadrunner for now. But I'll have the Camry up and running again before you get back." she said with a teasing smile and Jesse smiled up at her; reveling in his luck. _Who would have thought dorky Jesse Cooper could land an amazing girl like Elita Mckee?_ he thought.

"Love you. I'll see you soon!" he yelled as he got into his Honda Pilot. She waved from the door.

"Love you too! Call!" she yelled with a chuckle and watched him drive off. She didn't like him leaving but it was apart of the job. She worried though, and she probably wasn't going to get much sleep for the next two days.

* * *

><p>It was ten o'clock at night and Elita was alone in the house. Jesse's flight wouldn't touch down in New York until sometimes around seven tomorrow morning. So she had to find something to do in the mean time. So she straightened up the house and reorganized a few things. It was too late to call anyone and she never liked watching TV. So she headed out to the garage, turned up the Suzi Quatro and popped the hood to the Camry.<p>

Sure it was no 68' GTO, but the Camry got her from point A to point B without trouble. That is, until the transmission blew out. She'd have it up and running before Jesse got home in two days.

She was tinkering on the inside when she heard a noise behind her. She looked around but didn't find anything, so she went back to work. But when she heard the noise again, she grabbed a 45. out of her toolbox and went towards the sound. She didn't see anything but she went outside to double check. She heard a leaf crunch behind her and swung around, almost shooting her neighbor Mrs. McKinley.

"Oh my god." she breathed, pulling the gun back. Mrs. McKinley was the picture of shock and horror.

"Elita? Is that a gun!" she asked with wide eyes and Elita took a deep breath, nodding.

"I thought I heard a raccoon out here." she lied smoothly.

"A raccoon? You were…you were going to shoot it?" Mrs. McKinley asked in horror. Elita racked the slide back and caught the unspent round in the air. Mrs. McKinley watched in appalled amazement as Elita removed the magazine.

"Its just umm, a scare tactic, Mrs. McKinley. If you shoot at a raccoon, he's unlikely to return." Elita was impressed at how smoothly she was able to pull that bull shit out of her ass so quickly. She'd always been a good liar.

"Oh…" Mrs. McKinley whispered. "Why do you own a gun? They are so unsafe. I didn't know you owned them." she questioned and Elita sighed.

"Guns aren't harmful, the person pulling the trigger is." Elita replied, cutting Mrs. McKinley off- which did not achieve brownie points. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, right. I just wanted to ask if you could turn your music down. We can hear it and we're trying to sleep and-"

"Alright, Mrs. McKinley. I'll turn it down. In fact, I'm heading inside right now." Elita retorted, waving to the annoying old lady as she headed back into the garage.

Rebellious as she was, Elita turned the volume up until the end of the song but then she shut it off. She slammed the hood of her car shut and tossed her tools aside. But she took a minute to pull the sheet off the Road Runner and pop the hood- where she stored all the weapons she didn't depend on. Of course she had a few in the house for protection, but the rest were in the trunk of the Roan Runner, where they'd been since she was sixteen.

She grabbed her shotgun and repeatedly pulled the forearm back to eject all the shells. Then she grabbed her double barrel break open and removed the two unfired rounds. She pulled open the secret compartment she'd put in the trunk- a stolen idea from John Winchester- and grabbed her SKS. She pulled the magazine back and let the cartridges fall onto the trunk floor, then she pulled the bolt handle back and expelled the cartridge. She grabbed her 45. long colt out as well but instead of dispelling the cartridges, she checked to make sure it was loaded, then snuck it in the top of her pants.

She closed the trunk and shut off the lights, locking the garage safely. She made her rounds about the house to make sure everything was okay, and she placed her gun on the nightstand by her bed, just in case.


	9. Chapter 9

Elita never slept much- she hadn't since she was a kid who witnessed her family's murder. There was too much that could go wrong. Even with a revolver by her bed. After Jesse left, she'd slept with the revolver by the bed for the first night. But her second night alone, she's put it back in the garage- calling herself paranoid. She hadn't gone to bed yet, but she was upstairs in the bedroom reading when she heard the distinct sound of a can rolling across the hardwood floor downstairs. She sat up, listening for another sound to assure her that she wasn't crazy and hearing things. And when she heard a floor board creek she stood up. Her immediate response was to reach under the bed and grab her knife. She wished she hadn't put the revolver away.

She slowly exited the bedroom with her knife ready. She took the stairs cautiously; only stepping where she knew the wood wouldn't squeak. She walked into the den, catching a shadow behind her. She spun, getting hit and the knife fell from her hand, skidding across the room with a clatter. She attacked the man breaking in with fierce passion. And denial. She didn't want this shit coming at her again. She was done.

The two fought hard; falling all over the room and causing a mess and a loud racket. She had the upper hand but she felt as if the bastard was letting her win. He wasn't hitting her and, though he sure as hell was rough, he seemed almost reluctant to hurt her.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and threw him down to the floor, pinning him to the ground with her legs astride him. But she froze as his smirking face came into the dull light from outside.

"Dean!" she asked in disbelief. He smirked at her, still pinned underneath her body while she forced all her weight onto him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Happy to see me?" Dean replied sarcastically, still smirking at her.

"You could've called." she retorted, playing along with him.

"If I'd called, would you have answered? I wanted to see you. I thought we could talk." he said and Elita couldn't argue with him. If she'd seen his caller ID she would have hung up on him immediately. And nothing beat getting to actually see him rather then speak over the phone.

And as Elita looked down at Dean, she was transported back to a different time; her childhood- a place that seemed otherworldly and like a whole different part of her. She felt everything all over again, the pain, the joy, the frustration and every other emotion she'd ever felt in concern to Dean. She felt it like it was real. She felt like she was sixteen again, in the back seat of the Impala, afraid to love Dean the way he loved her; afraid to cave to desire. She felt it all, and it nearly crippled her. His green eyes, his smirk, his stupid hairstyle. Everything about him made her stomach flip and spin.

"Dean, I thought you were a psycho, or a demon. You could've gotten yourself killed." she responded, trying not to think of all the little butterflies in her stomach. She scurried off of Dean and he popped up next to her gracefully.

"Trust me sweetheart, I can handle myself." he smirked and she had to smile.

"I don't doubt that. Its _me _you should worry about though." she retorted confidently and Dean surprised her by giving her a hug. He reached out and wrapped her in a big hug, squeezing her tight.

"God its good to see you, Lita." he whispered as he hugged her. She let herself relax and she instantly found she still fit the mold of his body. When they were teenagers it seemed as if they fit together perfectly, like their bodies were matched together somehow. And apparently that transcended to adulthood, because her body matched his as she hugged him back.

When they pulled back, they each took a moment to examine the other. Elita first noticed the extra pounds of muscle Dean had put on recently. Sure, he'd always been strong, but he'd grown into his body _well_. He'd always been on the skinny side; she was glad to see he'd filled out _nicely_. He still wore the same clothes and he still had the same smile- with the little dimples she'd secretly adored. But the thing that held her attention the most was the age. He looked so much older. He was only in his early thirties, but he looked as if he'd lived through a hundred years- and seen a thousand. But he was still Dean.

And when Dean examined her, he found himself dizzy. She sure as hell looked different. She'd grown up _well_. And he thought she was gorgeous as a teen; that paled in comparison to her adult looks. She had the most perfect hourglass figure with fullness where its desired and toned muscle where it was needed. Staring at her midsection, it was clear she kept in tiptop physical shape and he would bet money that she was hiding her own set of impressive abs under her tight black tank top. She'd always been comfortable in her skin, but she'd finally fit into her body- she'd grown into it. She was currently wearing little plaid sleep shorts and a black tank top- which was tight and riding up her midsection, and a hell of a distraction to Dean. He let his eyes travel over her body before he looked up at her face. She'd died her hair a mute red but her eyes were still a luscious hazel- despite the years of misery she'd seen. She wasn't wearing any makeup but Dean couldn't see any aging on her face at all. She was just beautiful.

"So," Dean was the first to speak, needing the distraction. "Now that I'm here…any chance I can stay?"

"Oh right, of course. Do you want a beer?" she replied, motioning for him to follow her into the kitchen and he followed closely behind her

"Sure that would be great. I'm not disturbing you or anything. You weren't doing something crazy important, right?"

"No, not at all." Elita mumbled quietly. She didn't want to tell him just how pathetically unimportant her life really was.

Dean stopped in the hallway, he looked around and noticed odd things. Like men's shoes by the door and a men's coat hanging on the wrack. Then he noted a picture of a man on a table by the kitchen doorway. He stopped to examine it and Elita caught him. She cleared her throat and Dean quickly recovered himself.

"Any preference in beer? Or maybe you want something stronger?" she said as she opened the fridge and leaned in. Dean had to look away as he got a behind-the-scenes look.

"What do you have?" he asked, needing something to calm his nerves and something to do with his hands.

"I've got a lot. Whiskey, bourbon, rum…I could go on." Elita said, closing the fridge and leaning against the island counter.

"You have a stash or something?" Dean teased. "Whiskey sounds good."

"Alright, two whiskeys then." she said and began fixing the drinks.

"Hey, so who is that guy in the-" But Dean stopped himself as the light caught and reflected off something on Elita's left hand. "He's your fiancé." Dean concluded and Elita nodded her head solemnly. She handed Dean the whiskey and they both emptied their glasses in seconds. Dean slid his across the counter and she refilled them both.

It was a minute before Dean could respond. He rubbed a hand down his face as he tried to comprehend the situation as best he could. "Wait," he finally said, but his face was still clearly confused. "_He's _your fiancé? _Him_?" he asked in incredulity.

"Yes, him. And his name is Jesse Cooper and he's a great guy. Don't be so judgmental, Dean." Elita retorted and again, Dean ran a hand down his face. He downed his second glass and slid it back across the island at her where she refilled it and slid it back. She did the same with hers.

"I'm sorry, I just can't grasp this." he continued. "_You_- Elita Mckee, the annoying, mouthy hunter- are marrying _him_- Jesse Cooper the…the-" Dean turned around, looking through some of the papers in the kitchen. "The…surgeon?" he asked dubiously. "He's a damn surgeon. Oh, that makes it so much better. The belligerent hunter is marrying the pansy doctor. Your life would make a great soap opera right now, Lita." Dean snapped, tossing Jesse's business card down harshly.

It took her a second to recover after being called Lita again, but as soon as Dean's words registered in her mind, she was yelling back at him. "Belligerent! Me! Says the man with the "shoot now, ask questions latter" motto. You are the most volatile person I've ever known! All hunters included." she rejoined angrily.

"Yeah well it gets the job done, doesn't it sweetheart? I kill evil sons of bitches, I fix things and I save people."

"Oh, yeah and I've never done a damn thing in my whole life, right Dean?" Elita yelled and Dean took a few steps towards her, invading her space like he always used to.

"That's not what I'm saying." he said angrily, getting in her face. But she didn't back down. She stood on her toes and looked him in the eye.

"Then what are you saying De-" she started but he cut her off.

He reached out to her and took her face in his hands, kissing her and stopping her heart. After all the years, Elita had never stopped imagining what it would be like to see Dean again. She fantasized about kissing his lips again and feeling his skin. But she never thought those thoughts would prove true; until Dean showed up and kissed her in the kitchen.

She reached out and when she did, her engagement ring sparkled in the light and she pushed him backwards. "I can't do this." she said angrily, shoving Dean backwards. "I'm engaged, Dean. I can't…kiss you."

"We've done worse." he insisted, pulling her back into a mind altering kiss. It was a mix of whiskey and Dean that slowly diminished her will power. It was his smell and his hands and his lips that did her in. And the whiskey running through her wasn't helping. But she was able to pull away once more, walking backwards into the hallway.

"Dean, stop it. I can't do this. I'm happy with Jesse." she persisted but Dean wasn't having any of it. He seemed to be on a mission.

He pulled her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "You're happy with Jesse?" he asked and she gulped, nodding. "You're sure you're really happy with him? You're happy with the way he touches you and the way he feels? You're happy with Jesse?"

As Dean spoke Elita's knees began to shake. She would never tell him, but Jesse was quite awful in bed. It had been a long time since she'd had a great time and Dean was presenting a fantastic time. She'd had the best night of her life fourteen years ago in the back of Dean's Impala and as he kissed a trail up and down her neck, she knew she was going to have a good time that night as well.

"I'm lonely, Lita." he whispered, leaning his forehead against her skin. "I had a family and an apple pie life like yours and I screwed it up. Its not for me- I don't deserve it and I can't maintain it." She turned to face him and he rested his hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry I came unannounced." he whispered and she chuckled.

"Its quite alright, dear." she replied sweetly, reaching up to kiss him.

"I didn't come here for…this. I swear! I just wanted to see you. I…I missed you." Dean murmured and suddenly Elita couldn't get closer to him fast enough. She reached out and took the back of his neck in her grasp and she kissed him hard. And he sure as hell kissed her back.

He cupped her face as she pulled herself closer to him and closer until there was nowhere left to go. He grabbed her legs, hitching them around his waist as they kissed passionately. Elita desperately tugged at Dean's clothes, practically ripping his shirt off his chest. He grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it up and off her in one fluid movement. He walked them up the stairs while carrying her with ease and once they were in the bedroom, Dean laid them down gently.

He kissed her sweet and he kissed her soft. It was enough to have her begging for more. He was gentle about removing her clothes and he had that look in his eyes again. The look Elita distinctly remembered from the first time they'd made love. The look in Dean's eyes when they'd had sex then was pure compassion. As she rolled on top of him again fourteen years latter, she found the very same thing within his green eyes.

She kissed him then worked a trail of kisses down his neck and chest and Dean threw his head back against the pillow. He hadn't come to her house for sex. He came simply to talk and finally see her again. But now that he had the pleasure of _seeing_ her again; Dean couldn't imagine anything better. As she skillfully used her lips against his chest Dean moaned gruffly. He'd imagined what this would feel like a million times over. For months after he left her house in 97' he would have dreams of being with her again. But he never thought he'd see them through.

He rolled on top of her and kissed her deeply as he entered her. Her lips parted and for a second they were both incapable of doing anything. They didn't freeze, but both their minds were wiped clean. They couldn't think straight; every cell in their bodies came alive in a split second and that was the only thing they intended on focusing on.

Dean's hands were everywhere as they picked up a rhythm and began to move in synchronization. Moans filled the room as they each caused unbelievable pleasure to the other. Elita dug her nails into his back as they rocked back and forth. Dean grabbed her leg, holding tightly to her thigh as they moved. It was like they couldn't get close enough. They couldn't get high enough.

Elita was grateful she'd locked down the house before she'd come up to read, because she was positive she wasn't going to be able to do so after her and Dean were finished- whenever that might be. Hell, she wasn't even convinced she'd be able to walk if they kept it up for long. And she planned on going _long_.

* * *

><p>AN: And there it is folks ;) You knew he had to come back and you knew she had to let him stay lol she would be an absolute fool to turn down Dean Winchester XD I'd love to know what you guys think about my story! Please send some reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: As a side note; this story takes place before season seven. I'm not sure when exactly but the crap that's going on now on the show, isn't going on in this story lol. And some of the supernatural elements are 100% true. I tried to stick to the show as much as possible but I cut myself some slack for my lack of evil-sons-of-bitches knowledge haha =) Enjoy

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><p>Elita rolled over onto her stomach, flipping her pillow yet again. She'd flipped it to the cold side more then five times in the past hour alone. "Quit." Dean said sternly, grabbing her arm. "Fidgeting." he demanded and she stuck her tongue out at him.<p>

"I can't get comfortable." she complained, hitting her pillow. "I think the guilt is settling in."

Dean studied her for a minute. "No its not." he concluded and Elita's eyes popped wide. "You _want_ the guilt to settle in but it really isn't. Not yet at least. You're freaking out because you're not guilty. Technically, you're freaking out because you're not freaking out. Which is completely mental, by the way." Dean said confidently.

Elita stared at him with wide eyes. _How the hell had he figured all that out?_ Of course it was true, but she was astounded that he'd figured it out just by looking her in the eye for a minute. She decided not to say anything in return so they sat in silence for a while. It was getting late- Elita didn't want to look at the clock though- and Nick would be home early the next morning. She was internally freaking out.

They were both silent while Dean absently twirled a piece of Lita's hair between his two large fingers. Dean studied the colors in her hair. She had died it red recreantly and Dean had to admit he really liked it. Sure he loved her old brown hair but the red seemed to fit her personality a bit better. It stood out more and if there was something Elita McKee did it was stand out.

Dean paid close attention to her as her eyes drifted shut. He would miss seeing her and studying her once he was gone. "You awake?" he whispered and her eyes fluttered open.

"Unfortunately. But that feels good." she said groggily, motioning to his left hand. His arm was draped around the back of her neck while he drew mindless circles on her arm with his thumb.

"I have a question for you."

"Shoot," she said, tucking her head into his shoulder. He took a deep breath.

"I'm not sure what all you know Sammy and I have been up to recently. But I got out. After Sammy dove into the pit after Lucifer I went to find a normal "apple pie" life- because Sam made me promise I would." Dean explained and Elita stood a bit more alert. "There's this woman," Dean continued. "Her name is Lisa. We had something years ago but that was it. I came back to find out she has a kid- a boy, Ben. He's not mine but after Sammy fell, I went to them. I lived with Lisa and Ben for almost a year. Then I found out Sammy was back and…" Dean's voice caught. "I missed hunting, which is something I never thought I'd say. I loved being "normal" and Ben felt more like my son with everyday we were together. But I missed the feeling of power. Being a hunter, you kill bad things, you protect people and most importantly, you save people. I missed that. So when Sam came back and hunting was an option again…I jumped at it. Lisa, Ben and I tried working things out but as a hunter I guess you just can't be normal. You can't have that kind of happiness." Dean concluded.

"I say all this because I wonder. I wonder what would have happened if I'd stayed with Ben and Lisa forever. What would've happened if I'd never gone to them. I wonder if I could've resisted hunting." Dean was pensive for a long time before he turned to look her in the eye. "Lita do you miss hunting at all?"

"Of course, I do. It was my whole life for eighteen years." Elita replied with very little thought. She'd missed hunting as soon as she'd stopped.

"Why don't you go back, then?" Dean asked and Elita blinked. Of all people, she never thought Dean would be the one to try talking her _back_ into hunting. "I don't think you're happy here, Lita." he continued, taking advantage of her silence. "You're bored. So why don't you hunt again? Bobby is going to get his sorry ass killed one of these days; and Sammy and I, we aren't always going to be there! He could use your help and it would be nice not to have to wait until I'm forty-five to see you again. You were always a great hunter, Lita. Just think about it." Dean suggested.

He kissed her lips, then her forehead, before falling asleep with Lita in his arms.

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><p>Jesse pulled up to the house with a big smile. He's been looking forward to coming home since he first left. He hated going away- even for just a day- but it was apart of the job. But he enjoyed coming home, because Elita was always <em>so<em> happy to see him again. And it kept their relationship fresh; because he knew not to take advantage of her for she might not always be there when he returned.

He couldn't hear music in the garage so he assumed she wasn't working on the car. He'd only been gone a day but there was no doubt in his mind that she could fix it in time.

The front door opened when he turned the knob so he headed in, calling out to Elita. He didn't see her downstairs so he took the steps two at a time until he came to the bedroom door. He walked inside only to find Elita still asleep. He kicked his sneakers off, laid his jacket on the chair and laid down next to his fiancée.

And the funniest thing happened; he could've sworn Elita whispered the name Dean groggily as she rolled over to face him. But he let it go, figuring it was either his imagination or Elita having another weird dream.

"Morning," he whispered, kissing her cheek. She smiled up at him.

"What time is it? When did you get back?" she asked, turning to check the clock.

"It's a little after nine. My flight was delayed and I just got in." he replied and watched Elita look around the room. "You okay? You normally don't sleep this late."

"Umm, yeah I'm okay. Just tired, I guess. I had a umm, _rough_ er, _long _night."

"Yeah? Didn't get much sleep, huh?" he assumed as he reached out to her. But instead of going to his embrace, she kissed his cheek and climbed out of bed.

"I'm a mess. Let me clean up a bit." she said, heading to the attached bathroom. But what she was really thinking was, _Let me wrap my mind around last night_. Or maybe the better thought was, _Let me get Dean's scent off my skin._

"Yeah okay. Get orderly and I'll take you out to brunch." Jesse suggested, getting up and changing as well.

Elita closed the bathroom door and rested her head against the counter. There were so many questioned rolling around in her head.

Why didn't she kick him out after finding out it was Dean? She could lie and say it was because he's an old friend and she was just lonely. But she knew the real reason was because of his smirk and the way her heart and body had reacted to him. As soon as she knew it was him, she knew she was trapped.

Why did she sleep with him? _Its Dean fucking Winchester for Christ sake! How do you turn down Sex on Legs? Oh right…YOU DON'T!_

The loudest question of all though was why she felt the undeniable urge to follow after him? Possibly the hardest question to answer.. He'd made her an offer, he'd made it clear he wished she'd accept. But he left before she answered. That was baffling to her. If anything, Dean was a man looking for answers, so why would he leave her before receiving one? _It wasn't _just_ because Nick was coming home, obviously._

Elita ran bother hands down her face and through her ratted hair. Last nights activities had left her in shambles. She sure as hell was right about one thing though; Dean Winchester was still as complicated as ever. As she racked her hands across her restless face, something on her palm caught her eye.

Three words were written on her palm. "_Think about it_" in Dean's script.

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><p>After dinner, Elita and Jesse decided to watch a little television before bed- because neither of them were tired, but for different reasons. They sat down together but Elita had to get up a few minutes latter when her cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number.<p>

"Hello?" she asked skeptically, shuffling away from Jesse as not to distract him from his television program.

"Lita its Dean. Don't hang up!" Dean said on the other end of the phone. Elita froze stock still, barely breathing. She just stared blankly ahead.

"Did you hang up?" Dean asked quietly after a minute of silence.

"I have to take this in the other room." Elita told Jesse as she ran out of the room. Jesse paid little attention to her for he was so absorbed in the program. He dismissed her with a wave.

"I'm assuming you didn't hang up then." Dean said with a light smile. Only Dean could be humorous while calling his secret lover.

"What the hell do you want?" Elita snapped once she was far enough away from Jesse that he wouldn't hear. She headed upstairs and closed the guest bedroom door tightly behind her.

"Not in a humorous mood, I see." Dean replied and Elita's teeth clenched.

"You're calling me at home while I'm with my boyfriend. So no, Dean, I'm not in a humorous mood." she barked, agitated.

"Fiancé. He's your fiancé." Dean corrected arrogantly and Elita wished she were able to slap him through the phone.

"What do you want, Dean?"

"Two things," Dean replied, finally getting down to business. "I need some angelic consultation. My angel isn't answering his phone."

"What do you mean?" she asked, flopping down at the window seat.

"I mean, I've tried calling and praying but he won't answer." Dean said and Elita sighed at his incompetence."No; I mean what kind of consultation do you need?" she asked exasperatedly and Dean mentally slapped his palm to his forehead.

"Oh, I need some information. I need to know how to protect someone from a pissed of angel. I'm not familiar with enochian symbols." Dean said and Elita took some time to think about it. She may not have been in the hunting game the last twelve years, but she still knew a thing or two about the realm. Especially angels- considering she was half angel herself. She'd done enough research in her life to make her an expert on the subject.

"There are a few ways but none of them are sure-fire. The only way to truly protect someone from an angel is to kill the angel that's after them. But there are a few enochian symbols to hide someone from angels, there are amulets to ward them off and there are hexes to lock them up. But technically none of those things work unless the right person blesses them." Elita replied confidently.

"Like who?" Dean asked and Elita shrugged, even if he couldn't see her.

"People of power- angels themselves. Who knows. Why do you need to know?"

"Just taking precautions." Dean said. "Thanks for the information. I'm not sure I'm going to take action just yet but its nice to know I have a few options. And backup?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Yeah, you've got me." Elita replied. No matter what happened- or happens- with Elita and Dean, she'd always be his backup. If him, Sammy or Bobby were in trouble, she'd drop everything to help out. She'd nearly done so a few times when Bobby informed her of the stupid-ass mistakes they'd made over the years. Selling their souls, jumpstarting the apocalypse…she could sit them down and lecture them for hours.

"And your second question?" she asked and Dean chuckled.

"Did I leave my watch at your place?" he asked and Elita couldn't help but laugh a little as she held it up in front of her.

"You're lucky I found it or else we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Dean laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd be protecting myself from you." he teased and Elita agreed with a chuckle. "Just give it to Bobby the next time you see him."

"How is he doing?" Elita asked, tucking the watch back into her jacket pocket.

"He's doing okay. Just got himself out of a dangerous deal recently." Dean replied and Elita knew exactly to what he was referring.

Of course Bobby made no mention of selling his soul- but why would he? Its not something you would want branded on your forehead. She knew he had to have a good reason but she was disappointed in him still.

"And he calls you boys idjits." she said sarcastically and Dean agreed. "I suppose you boys are the only thing keeping him on his feet. He wanted out a long time ago."

"Yeah well Bobby isn't taking the easy way out anytime soon. I'll bring him back just to kill him myself." Dean teased and they shared a laugh, even if both of them were horror stricken just by the thought of Bobby dying.

"Well I better get going." she said and Elita could have sworn she heard Dean sigh. "Take care of the old man for me, would ya." Elita added with a melancholy smile.

"Yeah I will. And take care of yourself, Lita. No matter what happens from here on out; you should be happy- you need to be happy. You've found your way out, now don't let go unless you're sure you want back in the game. Cause you can't have both." Dean said passionately, speaking from experience.

"Yeah, you too Dean. I know it seems crazy but happiness in the midst of the storm _is_ actually possible." she reminded him. It was something her mother used to tell her.

"We'll see." was all he allowed before they said their final goodbyes and hung up. She wasn't sure how long it would be before she spoke with Dean again. Another fourteen years? She really didn't want to be forty-three when she saw him next. He stole a passing thought every now and again; but she'd mostly blocked out all memories of the boy she once knew. With his return, the memories flooded back to her.


	11. Chapter 11

"What would you say to me taking a little trip?" Elita asked at breakfast with Jesse in the morning. He looked up from his bowl of cereal; concern in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

"I was thinking about taking a little trip." she said mysteriously, averting her eyes to her barely touched cereal bowl. Jesse cleared his throat, pushing his unfinished breakfast aside.

"Where too?" he asked and she could feel his eyes boring into her.

"My uncle in South Dakota. I haven't seen him in a long time and I'd really like to catch up with him. He's been like a father to me for as long as I can remember."

"You've never mentioned anyone from your past before. Why the sudden interest in catching up?" Jesse asked and Elita just shrugged lamely.

"He recently had some heart trouble so I want to see him. You know…_before_." Elita lied and watched Jesse's face shift from angry quizzicality to sympathy in an instant.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." he said tenderly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "How is he doing?"

"I don't really know. That's why I want to go see him."

"Is that what that phone call was about last night?" Jesse asked, referring to when Dean had called Elita the day prier. She tensed at the mention.

"You heard that?"

"I caught part of the end. I meant to ask you about it, because you seemed pretty upset, but it slipped my mind. That call was about your uncle?"

Elita sighed in relief. "Umm, yeah it was about Bobby. So its okay with you that I head over there today? It might be a while before I return."

"Of course its okay with me. Go be with your family. Just give me a call, okay?" Jesse said sweetly and she agreed. He stopped to kiss her before he headed out to work. With a melancholy smile, Elita packed her things and headed out to the Road Runner. The rout to Bobby's place was forever engrained in Elita's mind. She made great time.

The boys headed up to Bobby's front door; knocking as not to frighten him. It took a strangely long time but eventually the door opened and Bobby stood in the threshold.

"You okay Bobby?" Sam asked as they all stood in the doorway staring at each other. Normally, Bobby would've let them in without a second thought, but for some reason he stood in the boy's path.

"Yeah I'm fine. What can I do for you boys?" he replied nonchalantly, leaning against the door frame.

"Can we come in?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Why?" Bobby replied and Dean opened his mouth to respond but a familiar voice broke over him from Bobby's kitchen.

"When is the last time you had a full meal, Bobby? And microwave dinners don't count-" Elita said as she rounded the corner into the front hall. Her voice trailed off as the Winchester boys came into view. She froze dead- as did Dean. Their eyes connected and held intensely.

"Elita McKee!" Sam said happily and with shock. Elita forcibly removed her eyes from Dean's and when she looked over at little Sammy Winchester her jaw dropped.

"Sammy!" she replied in disbelief. That definitely was _not_ the little Sammy she remembered. The Sam she'd last seen fourteen years ago was small- almost weak looking- and quite the nerd. The old Sam was quiet and shy but with clear passion in his eyes. And though that passion was still there, he'd definitely grown up! No longer small and slight; Sam was built entirely of muscle. Muscle and hair.

"Hey Elita." Sam replied almost shyly and with an adorable smile that urged Elita to wrap her arms around him. She smiled widely up at him, reaching out for a hug. Her arms barely wound around him!

"Damn, Punk! When did you get so huge?" she gasped as they pulled apart. Sam chuckled at her. "No really; Bobby said you'd toughened up over the years but oh my God, boy!" Elita laughed.

She turned from Sam to look at Dean. He was just staring at her; his eyes so intense. She couldn't decipher his expression- as usual- for he'd mastered the mysterious glare. Or maybe he'd always had that down. Bobby cleared his throat and Elita snapped back to reality with a stir. "Come on in." Bobby said to the boys awkwardly, heading into the house with Sam in toe. Elita stood there for a while, staring at Dean's boots. She wasn't looking at his face but she could feel his eyes on her. He was scrutinizing her, staring at her like he was looking past her. Or maybe through her. Eventually they walked inside where Bobby and Sam were. "Anyone hungry?" Elita asked as she came in. Bobby and Sam nodded hungrily and Elita looked to Dean who just shrugged lethargically. "Sandwiches and beers all around." Elita murmured as she headed into the kitchen. She began preparing the meal when Bobby cam in a second latter.

"I didn't know they were coming." Bobby insisted and Elita nodded stubbornly.

"Mmhmm." she groaned sarcastically; cutting lettuce a bit too violently.

"I swear I didn't. I may be old but I ain't stupid." Bobby replied, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. Elita stopped murdering the lettuce for a second; leaning against the counter and tossing a pensive grimace in Bobby's direction.

"I'm just not…" she whispered and let her words die off. She couldn't face Dean. She couldn't handle what she'd done. But of course, she couldn't tell anyone that. No one other then Bobby. But even he didn't need words; he just knew.

"I get it, kid." Bobby said, touching her shoulder before heading back out to the boys. Elita kept cooking, making a tray of sandwiches for everyone. She grabbed beers as well and headed out of the kitchen. They devoured the sandwiches quickly and so she made more. Sammy talked the most; he was obviously happy to see her again. Elita had kept in the loop via Bobby but it was great seeing Sammy once again. Dean did very little talking; he just sat back and watched. Watched Sam and Elita talk; watched Elita's faded eyes. They used to sparkle. She used to have gorgeous sparkling hazel eyes. But they had since lost a lot of light. That saddened Dean more then he thought it would. More then it should. Hunting, it steals a bit of your soul. Its to be expected that light slowly leaves ones eyes after all the shit they've seen as hunters. The supernatural realm is an unforgiving thing. Hunting since birth- it leaves a mark. That mark came in the form of stubborn belligerency for Elita McKee and apparently a twelve year break from the paranormal left _its_ mark in the form of lackluster eyes.

After they ate and all the stories and fun had been shared, Elita stood up. She went out to the junk yard to get some fresh air. Bobby had an old 76' Camaro outside that could use some fixing up. So Elita grabbed some tools and went to town under the hood. She lost track of time ad when she finally slammed the hood shut it was dark out already. She tossed the tools aside and turned off the lights but she stopped as she was heading back inside. Dean was outside as well, further out in the yard then she was. He was leaning against an old 89' Firebird, nursing a beer. He seemed so lost in thought as he stare out at nothing; taking tipples from his drink. She slowly walked over and hopped up on the hood of the car. She should've had some height on him- because she was on the car and he wasn't- but they were practically eye to eye. Neither one said anything for a while. They just stared up and out. Dean handed her his bottle and she took a sip before handing it back to him.

"Do you regret it?" he asked quietly after a minute. Elita thought for a second; knowing very well to what he was referring.

"No," she finally decided, stealing his beer and taking another pull. "I wish it would've been under different circumstances but I don't regret sleeping with you, Dean." she replied and Dean didn't say anything, just took back his beer. "Do you?" she asked softly and Dean responded immediately.

"Hell no." he said and Elita playfully punched his arm with a smile. She grabbed the beer back violently and he smiled at her. "I don't regret it." he said seriously, his smile quickly fading. He didn't take back the alcohol. "I wish I hadn't gone to you while at the same time I wish I hadn't left you either."

"What do you mean?" she asked quizzically, offering the beer back to him. He took it but didn't drink for a while.

"Never mind." he murmured, finally taking a nip. Elita let it go. She knew Dean better then he thought and she knew not to prod him. He'd tell her if he wanted to. "Are you staying here?" Dean asked after another long silence.

"Where else am I going to stay?" she teased with a chuckle. Like Bobby would let her stay anywhere else.

"True. So we're both here a while then." Dean said enigmatically and Elita just stared at him. "You have things for the night?"

"Yeah I've got a bag in the Roadrunner." she replied. She'd packed for a few days but they were mostly things that could be reused and pieced together differently so when she'd only packed a few things she could make plenty of outfits out of it.

"I can't believe you still drive that thing. It has got to be bumped to rumble by now." Dean teased, swallowing the last of his beer and tossing it across the junk yard agilely.

"For your information Dean Winchester, driver of a 67' Impala, my car drives better then fine. It's a family heirloom." Dean chuckled at her. He was just as protective of the Impala as she was of her Roadrunner.

They sat in silence for a long few minutes. Elita was still processing her life and the crazy turn it had taken. And Dean…well Dean was just trying to resist his urge to grab Elita by the arm and pin her against the car. He wanted so bad to reach out and kiss her- among other things- but he knew he'd given up that liberty a long time ago. "I better head inside." Elita absently mumbled as she slid off the hood. She turned to look at Dean, smiling. He was the only man she'd know to look so intensely brooding while still adorably innocent. He was the perfect mix of badass and puppy dog. He'd never lost the green eyed charm of his youth. He still had a way of worming his way into her heart with just a wink or smile. And as she looked at Dean again, she realized that he didn't have to worm his way in again. For he'd never left her heart in the first place.


	12. Chapter 12

HEY GUYS! Thanks for reading my story! XD If you've gotten this far, I thank you GREATLY! I'm a writer so the only thing better then knowing people read what I write is hearing WHY you guys read/like what I write. So please take a second to leave me a comment or drop me a message. If you have questions, comments (good or bad doesn't matter) or anything at all to tell me- please never ever hesitate to say it. I love reading comments and messages; I do a little happy dance every time I see I have one XD Thanks again for ready and please comment =) Enjoy!

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><p>Elita awoke early the next morning having slept on Bobby's sofa. No one else seemed to be awake yet so she headed upstairs to shower and get dressed; taking advantage of the quietness and alone time. Dean heard the shower start and assumed his early bird brother was already up. Dean stayed laying in bed just thinking. He was sure he wasn't going to see Elita again for years and now she was staying at Bobby's as well. He was supposed to be over it! Heaving a sigh, Dean shuffled out of his bed. He opened the door and froze still. Elita had been the one to wake up early and shower. He knew because she was standing in the hallway in little blue panties and a black tee shirt, routing through her bag of clothes that she'd left in the hallway. Dean just stared; unable to peel his eyes off her.<p>

"Quit staring at my ass, Dean." Elita reprimanded, her back still to him. Dean jumped in shock. He stammered an apology as she stood up and slid into a pair of ripped up jeans. She shook her head at him with a smile as she walked back down stairs. Dean rested his head against the wall.

He was _not _over it.

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><p>When Bobby came down the stairs, Elita had made breakfast for everyone. He enjoyed having Elita over because he always ate like a king. She'd always been a fantastic chief and the best part was that she enjoyed cooking so he never felt bad when she'd make a whole meal for just him. She enjoyed baking as well so he'd often look up from his studies to the smell of fresh cookies or his favorite pie. When Elita told him she was moving in with- and eventually marrying- Nick, his first thought was how lucky the son of a gun was just for her cooking alone.<p>

"Morning, Bobby." Elita called as Bobby entered the kitchen. She'd cooked eggs and bacon and the works and the smell alone made his stomach rumble with anticipation. Sammy was at the table, enjoying his first helping.

Bobby grabbed a plate and sat across from Sam; wondering aloud where Dean was. "He's probably hiding in his room." Elita replied with a coy smile. "He caught me in my skivvies this morning." she explained and the men laughed at his expense.

Elita fixed herself a plate and sat down, digging in. Dean eventually shuffled down the stairs when Sam was working on his second helping. Elita smiled real sardonically at him as he grabbed himself a plate.

When Bobby got up Dean grabbed his seat. Bobby headed to his study for a minute and came back with a folder in his hand. "I've got a case for you boys." he said, handing the folder to Dean. "Its no big fish but it needs to be taken care of. A shape shifter in Blaine, Minnesota. He's been screwing with people for a while but I don't think it's a part of anything. Definitely not an alpha."

"He's been messing with couples?" Dean asked, taking another bite and handing the file to Sam who took it and began reading.

"Young couples, specifically. His goal is to tear apart young love while also tearing them apart." Bobby replied, starting to clean up the kitchen. When Sam was done reading he tossed the file to the side and went to clean up his plate. Elita worked to clear off the table.

"Alright, we'll take it. Probably won't take us long. A few days maybe." Dean said as he stuffed the last few bites down his throat. "If we leave now we'll get there soonest, Sammy." he said as he stood up and started gathering equipment for the trip. Elita watched, a weird expression on her face.

"Can I talk to you a minute?" she asked Dean, grabbing his arm. They went to the study; standing closer then necessary.

"I've been thinking..." was all she had to say. Dean knew. He looked her in the eye- testing for doubts in her eyes- then he handed her a shotgun. After twelve years; Elita McKee was going hunting again.

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><p>Bobby made Sam and Dean both promise to bring Elita back without so much as a black and blue bruise before he let them leave. Of course his main concern was for Elita to be happy, but he was also richly concerned for her well being. And hunting didn't come without risks. Life threatening risks. They packed up the Impala and headed out to Blaine, four hours away. Dean immediately flipped on the radio, popping in one of his cassettes. Sam rolled his eyes, moaning a little as Dean played Kansas yet again. Sam took the passenger seat while Elita occupied the back, both of them going through their laptops.<p>

"Damn," Elita murmured in the back seat. "Bobby wasn't kidding about this thing tearing people apart." she said and they all shuttered. "There's barely anything left to examine."

"What does he get out of it? What's the point for him?" Dean wondered aloud. Elita was the one to answer, closing her lap top and leaning across the back of the font bench seat.

"Does there need to a point?" she pointed out. "Evil doesn't need rhyme or reason. He probably gets off on this kind of thing."

"Elita's right." Sam said, still going through his laptop findings. "Most of these cases have nothing to do with each other besides that they were happy at one point then fucked up the next."

Elita reached into Sam's lap, grabbing the case file Bobby had given them. They were only an hour into the drive and Elita had read over it more then ten times already. "Didn't it say that the couples all killed each other?" she asked Sam.

"Yeah usually something bad would happen then anger caused them to go rouge. One woman claimed her husband rapped her and in anger, she pushed him into the wood chipper at his work." Sam replied and Dean groaned.

"I just ate, man." Dean complained, rubbing his now unsettled stomach.

"So the shape shifter is taking one of their forms, wrecking havoc and getting off watching them go mad. Seems pretty cut and dry to me." Elita concluded, handing the file back to Sammy. "This shouldn't be too difficult."

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><p>When they pulled up to the motel, Elita was sleeping soundly in the backseat, her head resting against the doorframe. Dean went in to get a room but hesitated when the clerk asked whether they wanted a king or two queens.<p>

"Umm two queens." he said, figuring they would find a way to make it work. He'd stick Sammy on the couch or something. Once he had the key he went out to Sam and gave it over. "Let her sleep a bit." he told Sam, motioning to Elita. "We need to talk."

The boys headed up to their room and began unpacking; tossing the case folder on the little table.

"What's up?" Sam asked, sitting on the bed. Dean sat down opposite him on the other bed, unpacking and inspecting their weapons. "Is this about Elita? Because I know you two had sex." Sam continued and Dean shot him a stare, shaking his head.

_Leave it to Sammy to be uncomfortably blunt, _Dean thought.

"Anyway," Dean said after a long and awkward silence between them. "Bobby stressed her safety and she hasn't hunted in a long time. So its up to us to keep her safe here. We have to have her back as well as each other's."

"I know, Dean. I get it; I'll watch after her." Sam replied, but he could tell something else was on Dean's mind. They sat in silence for a while. "What's really going on, Dean?" Sam asked and Dean heaved a sigh.

"I didn't expect to he here is all. You know? I thought for sure that I wasn't going to see her again." Dean admitted, running his hands down his face.

"Well maybe this is your shot, Dean. You now maybe if you two hunt together and up to-" Sam began before Dean cut him off.

"She's engaged." Dean stated over Sam. Dean stared at the floor and Sammy froze. He hadn't noticed a ring and hadn't said anything at Bobby's. it was clear on Dean's face that her relationship status was stopping him from getting close but it hadn't stopped Dean from sleeping with her. Sam sighed.

"Oh man, what did you get yourself into." Sam murmured and Dean just nodded. "Did you know?"

"I wasn't thinking straight, Sammy we'd had some to drink and…I don't even know." Dean replied, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't sure what to do. He figured he wouldn't see her again so he wouldn't have to deal with it. But now they were working a case together and the only thing left for them to so was handle it.

"Hey," Sam said, waiting for Dean to look up. "We all make mistakes, Dean. Your mistakes just happen to be with taken women." Sam teased with a small smile and Dean just about slapped him, but he chuckled.

"Yeah well we have a case to deal with. This comes first." Dean finally said, standing up. It was going to be a _long_ hunt.

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><p>After Elita woke up, they figured out the sleeping arrangements (alternating from bed to couch ever night they were there). Dean made sure Elita was last to get the couch so that way if they were there short enough she wouldn't switch at all.<p>

"I'm going to need your help here, boys." Elita told the guys as they unpacked and settled into the hotel. Dean was popping beers for him and Elita while she and Sam sat in a pile of papers on the bed. "You're the most recent to have hunted these things."

"When is the last time you took a job?" Sam asked curiously, peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. He had been refusing himself the urge to look her over ever since he saw her again, but as she sat next to him- her arm against his- in a tight t-shirt and low-rise jeans, he couldn't help but admire. He caught Dean's glare when he looked away.

"Unofficially last year. I helped a friend with a poltergeist." she replied easily. She'd taken odd hunting jobs over the years in order to keep her skill set up to date; but she sure as hell wasn't the hunter she used to be. Which is why she was letting the boys take lead. At that point in their lives, the boys were just better then her. They were more experiences and skilled. But Elita would be damned if she didn't know enough to make her dangerous.

She caught Sammy staring at her and nudged him with her elbow playfully. "Quit staring at my rack, Punk." she teased with a coy smile and watched Sam turn a bright shade of red. He quickly looked away, muttering an apology as his cheeks and neck flamed red.

"We'll work as a team." Dean interjected after clearing his throat. Things obviously hadn't changed for her and Sam- they were just as close- but he definitely was not okay with the two of them flirting with each other.

"Why don't we go over to the latest victims apartment." Elita suggested, uncomfortable with Dean's stares. Sam was looking down her shirt, but Dean was looking through her. And she'd rather be objectified then scrutinized.

Dean grabbed his keys and they headed out to the Impala after locking up their things. Elita jumped in the backseat and Sam rode shotgun. It was too quiet as none of them knew what to say. So Elita leaned over the front seat and flicked on the radio.

"_You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl. I wish that I had Jessie's girl. Where can I find a woman like that? Like Jessie's girl._" Rick Springfield sang over the chorus of the infamous song. Elita's head dropped onto the front seat backrest with a thud just as Dean angrily turned the radio back off.

A _long_ hunt.

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><p>Author's Note: I am so bad at writing hunts! haha, so for that I apologize XP This story is mainly about Dean and Elita but hunting is a major part of their lives so they're necessary to the story, unfortunately I just don't think I'm too good at writing them haha. Bear with me ;)<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: A short chapter but its all I've got :( I'm unsure if I'll be uploading over the Thanksgiving holiday this upcoming week but I probably will considering I'm going to relatives and I have nothing better to do then write ;) haha ENJOY! =)

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><p>As Elita and Sam talked to the latest victim's neighbor outside, Dean snuck around the back and examined the inside. It seemed so normal- not the home of a psycho who threw her husband in a wood chipper then committed suicide. Everything was neat and tidy, everything in its exact place. Dean was in the den looking through some of the cabinets when Sam and Elita came in to join him. Sam went over to the desk and began fishing around in the laptop.<p>

"This place is spotless," Dean murmured as he snooped around. "Looks a lot like your place," he teased Elita, shooting her a look out of the corner of his eye. She punched his arm forcefully. He winced.

"Shut up, Dean or I'll throw you in a wood chipper." she threatened seriously, heading out of the room to check other parts of the house.

Dean stood up just as Sam called him over. "You have to check this out." Sam said, pulling up a webcam video.

"Dude," Dean said, covering his eyes. "What the hell did you make just me see?" he shrieked, hitting Sam on the back of the head. In reaction, Sam gave him a hard ball tap without even looking. Dean winced again.

"Jackson Henderson," Sam told him. Jackson's corps was in shreds- after being thrown in the wood chipper- and lying on an autopsy table. "Why would Brea Henderson have a picture of her dead, shredded husband on her computer?" Sam questioned and Dean straighter up.

"Huh…that's creepy." Dean said, still not looking at the mangled corps picture. "Wait," Dean interjected before Sam could close the computer. Something had caught in his peripheral vision. He grabbed the computer mouse from Sam's hand and clicked on a photo in Brea's recently viewed folder. A picture of Jackson popped up, taken from a security camera sometimes around Brea's rape. "The eyes," Dean said.

The eyes glowed on camera. They were definitely working with a shape shifter. "But," Sam began. "If Brea knew he was a shape shifter why'd she kill him?"

Dean clicked around a few times. "She'd already killed him when she saw this. Besides, she didn't know what he was. For all she knew something in the camera feed fucked up his eyes."

"Then why would she kill herself?" Sam asked as Dean turned off the computer.

"Dude, she just put her freaking husband through a wood chipper- I'm sure she was a little upset about it." Dean went to find Elita so they could head back to the motel and get some rest. If they were going to hunt this shape shifter, they would need energy. But as Dean was heading through the house he heard a loud clatter upstairs in one of the bedrooms. He froze for a second then took off at a dead run up the stairs towards the sound.

_Oh Bobby will kill me if something happens to you, Lita!_ his mind screamed as he raced up the stairs, Sam quickly following behind. Dean kicked open the bedroom door only to be confronted with a horrifying sight.

The shape shifter had come back to the house- still in Jackson's form but still intact- and tackled Elita. The crash Dean had heard was the shape shifter's body colliding with the dresser as Elita slammed him into it. She'd dropped her knife in the struggle and Dean immediately went for it. He poised the silver knife in the air as he prepared to kill the shape shifter who was attacking Elita.

He swung but only hit the shape shifter's arm, which burned and he screamed. He fled before Dean could get another good swing in. When he turned back around Sam was helping Elita stand up. She wasn't bruised or seriously injured but it had been a long time since she'd fought like that and her back was clearly sore. She leaned against Sam as she started to laugh.

"Well, I'm off to a great start." she said with a smile.

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><p>Dean insisted Elita stay at the motel while he and Sam went out the next day. She'd pitched a holy fit but he was adamant and so she stayed. She was doing more research and calling every now and then when she had more information for the boys. They drove from victim to victim all getting the same story. Someone did something terrible and to repay, they killed them; then committed suicide. They all fit the pattern.<p>

But Dean was distracted all day. That morning Elita and Sam had woken before him. Or at least that's what they thought. Sam had gone to get breakfast to bring back to the motel for them while Elita hopped in the shower. Dean had stayed in bed trying to sleep a little longer but when the bathroom door opened he found his eyes wide open.

Elita had come out of the shower dripping wet in nothing but a towel. He guessed she thought he'd still be asleep and Sam would still be gone so she braved the motel room. She went to the corner where she'd dropped her bag and fished out the necessary items. She slid into her panties and bra and let the towel fall to the floor as she put lotion on her legs and something similar in her hair. He couldn't peel his eyes away. He studied the curve of her body; her perfect hourglass midsection, slender thighs and round ass.

She slid into a navy blue spaghetti strap tank top first before finishing up her routine and sliding into a pair of jeans. Dean felt like a little kid again as he quickly closed his eyes and pretended to sleep when Elita turned back around. Only when Sam came back with the food did he get out of bed- pretending to wake up.

He'd had the image of Elita's scantily clad body stuck in his head all day. Not to mention he was having flashbacks to the previous morning when he caught her in her underwear, and especially their most recent sexcapade. He couldn't concentrate. She was messing with his mind again, just like she had when they were teenagers.

"What about sewers?" Sam was saying when Dean focused back to the present. They were in the Impala, heading back to the motel after visiting the last victim. Dean had drunk a few dozen cups of coffee in an attempt to keep his focus straight but it wasn't helping. The only thing it had done was litter the floor of the Impala with empty coffee cups.

"What about them?" Dean asked groggily.

"It's a prime spot for a shifter to hide. Maybe we should start checking them tonight." Sam suggested, folding into the bench seat comfortably, his eyes sliding shut and folding his arms across his chest.

"What's up with you?" Dean asked, punching Sam's shoulder.

"I'm just tired, Dean. Elita has been waking up every freaking hour every night. I've been following her wherever she goes." Sam replied sleepily.

"What? Where is she going? Why didn't you tell me?" Dean questioned angrily. She could be in so much danger out there. Dean knew she could hold her own, but he still didn't like having her out of his sight, if just because he worried he wouldn't get to see her again.

"I didn't tell you because it wasn't any of your business, Dean. She's not going anywhere in particular, book stores and libraries. She works the case at hand harder then you do. It's scary and impressive at the same time." Sam said with a tired chuckle. Dean just stared out the front windshield.

"Elita and I will go tonight. You stay back and rest up a bit." Dean finally decided. He wasn't sure how he'd focus with her next to him- and only her next to him- but he'd have to find a way. He was bound to spend some time with her in the near future either way. At least they weren't going anywhere romantic. Sewers aren't romantic.

When they got back to the motel Dean gave Elita the plan while Sam flopped down on the bed tiredly. Elita grabbed her stuff and she and Dean headed out quickly after Dean had gotten back. She climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala and flipped on the radio when Dean started the car. She went over some of the things she'd done while he and Sam were gone that day as they drove and Dean let himself begin to think that working with her would be easier then he was anticipating.

Elita somehow produced a map of the sewer system and was pointing out the way as Dean drove. They pulled over by a manhole and Elita got out, leaning against the car.

"I can't believe you are taking me down a sewer, Dean. That's just _so_ romantic." she teased as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail- two pieces of hair falling on either side of her face. She threw her brown leather jacket over her shoulders and grabbed a flashlight.

"Alright," Dean started before they went down. "I'll go down first but I swear to God if you don't follow, I'll shoot you myself."

"Oh please," she retorted sourly. "You wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure?" Dean challenged, taking a step closer to her. She craned her neck to look up at him with a cocky smile.

"Because Bobby wouldn't like it; and Bobby terrifies you." she said with a smile and Dean went to argue but didn't have a rebuttal. He truly was terrified of the drunken hillbilly. He just shoved Elita to the side as he climbed down the manhole. He could hear her snicker above him.

Thankfully, she followed after him and they showered their flashlights down the muggy hallways. Elita immediately made a sound of distaste but they started walking anyway. Elita walked behind and a little to the left the whole time, both their flashlights and weapons poised.

"So," Dean said to break the awkward silence. "Sam says you're not sleeping." He heard her scoff under her breath behind him. She pressed her knife against his side and he chuckled. "Calm down. I'm just curious as to what's been keeping you up." he promised and soon the knife was removed.

"I haven't slept soundly since I was fourteen. Every now and then I'll sleep a little while- when I'm most comfortable and feel safest. Other then that, I wake up every hour or so on the dot." Elita replied flippantly. Dean remembered the night he'd gone to her house and they'd slept together. That night she'd slept peacefully and soundlessly on his chest all night until he snuck out to avoid detection.

"So your solution is to go to the library and do some research?" Dean question, ignoring the heat spreading through him at the touch of Elita's hand on his arm as they walked. It was dark in the tunnel and she was having trouble keeping up with him. Or at least that's how they would justify it.

"I'm not just going to lie in bed staring at the ceiling. I'd rather be doing something productive. I guess working a case gives me an excuse." Elita admitted and things grew quite. Dean stopped short, shinning his flashlight to a pile of gold on the floor. "Well we're in the right place." Elita mumbled. She danced her flashlight across the floor, illuminating a pile of flesh the shape shifter had shed.

"It shed," Dean mumbled then grunted. "Now we don't know what it looks like. Great, this case just keeps getting better." He poised his gun down the hall and Elita stood behind him, her knife in a ready position. Absently she twirled it as they walked forward.

Elita didn't appreciate the smell of the sewer as they walked through the gross halls. They passed piles of gold and flesh all over the place from the many victims the shape shifter had taken. She followed closely behind Dean.

"Why are you cowering behind me? Stop it's freaking me out." Dean said, reaching behind him to grab Elita's hand and pull her in front of him but she swung her hand away.

"I'm not _cowering_ behind you; I'm simply walking behind you. And if something gross comes flying down this hallway I'm _so not_ going to be the first to greet it. Whether it's a shape shifter or a rat, I don't care its attacking you first." Elita replied with a sarcastic smile. Dean looked at her for a minute, rolled his eyes then forced her body in front of his. He had to grab both of her shoulders and forcefully move her in front of him and hold her there as he pushed her forward.

She reached behind herself, trading her knife for Dean's gun. He eyed her suspiciously and she said, "What? I at least should be able to defend myself properly."

"Why aren't you carrying your own gun?" Dean asked casually, but really there was nothing casual about the question. He'd tried giving her a myriad of different guns but she refused them all and stuck with her knife.

"I haven't had enough time shooting lately. I feel more comfortable with my knife then a gun." Elita replied, holding Dean's Colt cautiously. "I haven't truly shot a gun in a while, Dean." she continued and Dean let it go. He wasn't about to start lecturing her about safety while she was walking down a creepy dark sewer in front of him.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: I hope everyone had a nice holiday =) I've got a nice long chapter for you guys! I've been loving the reviews _so_ much please keep them coming! =) Enjoy

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><p>"Dean are you seeing this?" Elita called out. She was bent over by a pile of flesh, picking through it with a stick.<p>

"Oh that's just gross, cut it out." Dean chastised, slapping her shoulder. She set aside the stick and stood up.

"I'm talking about the amount of piles down here. How many people has this thing been? And who's next?" she mumbled. They turned around and headed back where they had come. Elita had to admit she was impressed by Dean's ability to remember the exact manhole they'd used to enter the sewer. They climbed back out and Elita turned to see Sam leaning against the Impala.

"Whoa what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be back at the hotel sleeping." she said as she came up to stand next to him.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"Still down there looking for a flashlight he dropped." she replied, laughing. They could hear Dean down there rustling around and cursing trying to find the flashlights. "What are you doing here?"

"Woke up and thought I'd come see what you guys were up to. Find anything?" Sam replied. Elita leaned against the car next to him with her hands in her pockets.

"This thing was definitely down there setting up shop but who knows who it's impersonating now." Elita replied. Sam stretched his arm out and draped it over the back of the Impala behind her head.

He inclined his body toward her as he said, "How are you doing? I know you haven't been sleeping much."

"I'm fine, Sam honestly. I've gone longer without sleep- this won't kill me." Elita said, patting his chest. "It's nice of you to be concerned though."

"You know I care, Elita. I worry about you but the again I probably always will." Sam told her with a smooth smile. She smiled back at him and reached over for a hug. She wasn't used to trying to wrap her arms around him and barely being able to touch her fingers together. But she still felt like she was hugging lil Sammy Winchester.

Dean came up from the manhole then and saw Sam and Elita getting comfortable. It took him back to seeing the two of them flirting at the hotel room and the feeling in his gut. He cleared his through loudly and they separated. "What are you doing here, Sam?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh I woke up and thought I'd come see what you guys were up to. But I'm heading back now. Go get yourself some pie, Dean. Night, Elita." he said then kissed Elita's cheek. She smiled as she waved at him. He walked back in the direction of the hotel with his hands in his pockets.

"He's is a strange kid." Dean said, tossing his stuff in the truck of the car and getting out his keys.

"He's sweet, Dean. Cut him some slack." Elita replied as they got into the car.

"Why because he's all soft and sweet? He does that puppy dog thing and I kick ass, that's the way it works and it's a good thing."

"No he's sweet because he's not afraid to say what he feels, Dean. And he's considerate. He came the whole way out here because he was..." Elita let her sentence trail off. "Turn the car around."

"What are you-"

"Turn the car around now, Dean!" Elita shouted. Dean quickly turned the car around even though he didn't know why. She instructed him to go back towards the hotel and so he did; asking why. "Because that was not Sam-" That was all Dean needed to hear and he was speeding back toward the hotel. They got there in record time. They burst through the hotel door- Dean leading the way- and there Sam was lying in bed, having been woken up by their outburst.

"What's going on?" he asked, sitting straight up. He didn't have a shirt on and he was wearing sweatpants, his hair sticking up. "Why are you staring at me?"

"The shifter is wearing your face." Dean said, pulling out his silver knife. Sam stood up, knowing very well what came next. He took the knife from Dean and slid it down his arm. Nothing but blood oozed from the wound.

"How do I know one of you isn't the shifter?" Sam asked and so both Dean and Elita took turns do the same to their arms. Elita winced but the pain felt good to her- felt like old times again. Once everyone was positive the shifter wasn't amongst them the boys gathered their things to head out after it but she offered to stay back at the motel.

"How did you know it wasn't me?" Sam asked curiously as he pulled on a shirt and Dean gathered some more things and threw them in the Impala.

"I don't know it just…_wasn't_. You're a puppy but you wouldn't walk three blocks just to check in on Dean and I. Especially when you're our number one fan right now." Elita replied and Sam blushed a little.

"You're right, I wouldn't." Sam joked. "I'm glad you figured it out though. Its not a comforting thought having a shifter out there with my face."

"Don't worry, Sammy. You're hair is better than his." she teased as she ruffled his hair.

"You don't mind staying here, right?" Sam asked Elita as he grabbed his bag. She was more then glad to not have to go back to that retched sewer.

"Trust me, Punk I'm more then alright staying here. Go have a nice time with the rats and floating shit." she teased and sat down on the bed. "I think I'll catch some sleep while you're both away." she said but they all knew it was a lie.

"Holler if you need us." Dean said, pushing her backwards onto the bed as he passed her.

"I'll be here. Have fun, be safe, call me!" she yelled with a chuckle. It just killed Dean every time she pretended to be the loving soccer mom when the boys left for a hunt.

Elita stayed lying on the bed counting the ceiling tiles for a long time. She could really go for a long nap but it was probably a lost cause. Still, she grabbed one of Dean's button up shirts and draped it over her shoulders as she turned over on her side and tried to get some shut-eye.

But as she laid there she caught a whiff of Dean's scent wafting off his shirt. She inhaled deeply, wishing it were Dean's arm around her shoulders and not his shirt. She fell asleep shortly there after, imagining Dean's arms around her, protecting her, keeping her safe and warm, and most of all, caring for her.

* * *

><p>Elita woke some time later more rested then she anticipated. She sat up and stretched her stiff muscles as she yawned and ran her hands through her tangled hair. Dying it red was her own idea but it had taken a long time to get used to it. But it had grown on her; especially since Dean made a passing comment about liking it the other day when they were in the car. She got up and went to the bathroom to wash up and clean the sleep from her face. She'd slept for a good hour and she was starved. So she grabbed her wallet and threw her hair into a loose ponytail as she slipped into her boots.<p>

She was just about to open the door when someone knocked. She paused then checked the peephole before opening it. "Dean?" she asked when she saw him standing outside. "Why didn't you use your key?"

"Oh I left it with Sammy." he said, shrugging and coming into the room with his hands in his pockets. He immediately went for the bottle of vodka on the counter and took a swing.

"Where is he?" Elita asked, throwing her jacket over her arm and closing the door behind him. They stood in the middle of the small eat-in kitchen.

"A bar," Dean said after an awkward silence.

"A bar? Since when does Sammy go to bars? And since when do you not tag along?" Elita quizzed and Dean laughed at her, tossing the empty bottle into the sink.

"Relax will ya? He need some unwinding time and I didn't feel like going along." Dean replied offhandedly, stepping closer to her. He touched the hem of her shirt and said, "I thought maybe we could hang out for a bit tonight. You know, without Sam around."

Elita stared at him for a long minute. He could not be serious? He was hitting on her in the middle of a case. After what happened. After everything, he was hitting on her in a crappy motel room that they shared with Sammy while they were in the middle of a job.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked suspiciously and he smiled.

"I'm great," he replied then brought his lips down to hers. He kissed her hard on the mouth as his hand wrapped around her waist. But she quickly pulled back, shaking her head.

"Uh-uh you're drunk." she mumbled, pulling away from him. "Or at least something is wrong with you."

"No nothing's wrong with me. I just want you." Dean insisted and pulled her in for another kiss. But she wormed her way out of his grip and backed away a few steps. There was something wrong with him- he didn't even act like that when he was drunk. And even though he'd polished off the rest of the vodka, he didn't even seem drunk.

"I'm going out for something to eat, Dean. Don't be so weird when I get back, okay?" Elita retorted, grabbing her jacket which had fallen to the floor and storming towards the door. But Dean grabbed her waist again.

"Oh c'mon, Elita stay with me." he pleaded and she froze.

"What did you call me?" she wondered aloud as he stroked the side of her hip. It suddenly hit her and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Where's your knife wound, Dean?" as she said this, Elita grabbed his supposedly sore arm tightly in her grip. He didn't even wince.

"Damn," Dean mumbled under his breath. Then he smiled sadistically at her and she backed away again. "You're a smart one." Dean walked towards her as he laughed. "I really didn't think you'd make the connection. Truly I was hoping you'd just give in and think nothing of it but apparently I didn't give you enough credit."

"What did you do with Dean you son of a bitch?" she spat as she backed her way against the counter. She was hoping to get to her bag by the foot of the bed and get to her knife.

"Oh don't worry your precious Dean is perfectly okay. Those two idiots are in the sewer system somewhere trying to find me. Little do they know I've already found them." The shifter imitating Dean chuckled and launched forwards at Elita as she grabbed her knife off the floor. She got it in her hand and nicked him before he could get a steady grip on her. She stepped away and held the knife between them.

"You have ten seconds before I kick your ass back to that sewer you came from." Elita warned him but he continued to walked forward at her.

"You know you hunters are all alike." he told her as he stalked her. "You all think you're so smart and you're so misconstrued. Thinking you help people," he said then laughed. "As if! You're not helping anyone at all- you're just helping yourself. You're all selfish sons of bitches but you just sit on a higher throne then the rest of us. Or at least you think you do."

I shiver ran up Elita's spine as she backed into the kitchen counter; she was truly trapped. And the worst part was looking back at the shifter and seeing Dean's green eyes. They weren't his, but they looked a hell of a lot like his pretty green eyes. Elita prayed the boys would come back soon. "So here's how this is going to go down," the shifter said as he advanced her. He was just a foot away; Elita prepared to strike him. "I usually turn lovers against each other- that would be you and this lovely meat suit." The shape shifter motioned to himself (or Dean, rather) and Elita shook her head.

"Dean and I aren't in love." she lied and the shape shifter laughed at her.

"Sure you are. I saw you two in the sewer, its pretty damn obvious." the shape shifter insisted and Elita couldn't argue with him. It didn't matter any way. "I honestly couldn't decide between him and the tall one. You have such weird relationships with the both of them; either one would've done. But you screwed up my plan to use the walking Pantene add so now I resort to using the Ken doll. I figured I'd just turn you against him, but since you're so smart and you figured it out before I had any fun, now I'll just have to kill you."

"Dean will figure it out, asshole." Elita insisted. Of course Dean and Sam would figure it out. They'd know immediately. Elita didn't have a doubt that they would revenge her murder as well.

"That is true," the shape shifter said, thinking. "I guess I'll just have to kill him too."

Elita swung her knife forward but the shape shifter moved backwards too quickly and she hit air. "Ever heard of a chain reaction?" Elita asked as she attacked. "You kill me, Dean will kill you. You kill Dean, Sam will kill you. You kill Sam, Bobby will kill you. And so on and so on. And I bet you're too stupid to kill us all. This whole thing isn't looking too good for you right about now." Elita told him with mock sympathy. She swung her knife forward, hitting the shape shifter in the gut. He yelled as the silver burned him and he attacked. He threw her to the ground and kicked her, pulling the knife from his abdomen and throwing it to the side. Elita quickly stood up and prepared herself to fight- even if she wasn't too confident without a weapon.

They fought their way to the floor in the bedroom as Elita struggled to find a weapon. She was better at hand-to-hand combat then she anticipated but he still had the upper hand. She fought hard though, because she wouldn't dare go down without even trying. Even if this thing killed her, she'd go out Butch Cassidy style. "C'mon," the shape shifter called as Elita rose from the ground after being flipped over the shape shifter's shoulder. Her back killed her but she readied herself to fight. "You don't want to kill Dean, do you?"

"You are not Dean!" Elita yelled, holding her fists up and ready to fight.

"I sure as hell look like him, though don't I. I may even believe I am him. I like this skin, its comfortable." the shape shifter taunted and Elita jumped him. She grabbed him and threw him backwards onto the table where he took out everything on it and fell off the other side.

"First I'm gonna beat the shit out of you," Elita said as she grabbed her knife. The shape shifter rose and readied himself for more fighting. "Then I'm gonna kill you. And once you're dead, I'm gonna strip the flesh from your body. Okay?" Elita lunged forward and swung but the shape shifter blocked it. It was like grappling, fighting the shape shifter. He moved his body in such a way that he just slipped right out of Elita's hands once she grabbed him. But unlike MMA grappling, the shape shifter struck her- and he struck hard.

"You gotta step in and be the hero! You have to ruin my fun, dontcha?" the shape shifter yelled as Elita caught her breath. Her muscles were protesting against the fight but she kept swinging her fists until she scurried to her bag and grabbed a gun.

"Yeah, I do." Elita said then pulled the trigger. The loaded silver bullet dislodged from the gun and flew through the air before piercing the shape shifter right through the heart. She pulled the trigger again, landing another bullet in the shape shifter's chest and he fell back against the table with a crash. He stayed here, motionless and dead.

Elita dropped the gun and sunk to the floor, breathing heavy with blood dripping from her forehead into her eye. She gasped her air and held her sore ribs and just laid there. She couldn't help but feel proud that she'd taken down the shifter. But at the same time, she just wanted to crawl up and make it all go away. Maybe she wasn't ready to get back into the game after all.

* * *

><p>Dean pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot and threw it into Park. "No, Sam for the last time, no!" Dean yelled, slamming his palms into the steering wheel. He was having unwelcome flashbacks to when Sam was young and always begging John to let him stay home from hunts.<p>

"Why not? It would do you both some good." Sam insisted as he got out of the car and grabbed his bag out of the backseat.

"Because she's with someone else, Sam. She has a fiancé and its not me so I'm not getting in the way. Now drop it, Sammy."

"I'm just suggesting you two get dinner together and talk- nothing more. There sure is a hell of a lot of crap for you two to talk about." Sam said as they headed towards their room. But Dean stopped him halfway.

"Look," Dean said seriously. "We're in the middle of a case right now, so I'm not even going to think about it. And you need to learn to mind your own goddamn business."

"I have only your best interests in mind-" Sam was in the middle of saying when Dean swung the motel door open. The room was an utter mess of chaotic destruction.

"What the hell?" Dean murmured as they walked into the room. That's when he saw himself lying motionless and dead on the crushed kitchen table.

"I found the shifter." Elita said but they couldn't see her. Dean looked every which way until he found her lying on the floor between the beds. He rushed to her side immediately while Sam checked the body.

"What the hell happened, Lita?" Dean asked as he helped her sit up. He touched the cut on her forehead as lightly as he could but she still winced.

"Just hug me," Elita said and Dean looked confused as he asked what she meant. "Hug me, Dean. This is the first time in a _long _time that I've killed something and it looked like you. So I want a goddamn hug, okay?" Elita replied exasperatedly. Dean chuckled at her but he wrapped her in a hug anyway. His big arms encased her in safety and they just sat there for a while. Dean was taken back to the most recent night they'd spent together. He loved just getting to hold her then and he hadn't realized until she was in his arms that he needed someone steady to fill the void in his heart. Killing things and copiously drinking were no longer cutting it for Dean. He was left with a hole where intimacy should've been in his life. And as he held Elita in his arms again, he realized that she was the one he wanted to fill that void. He wanted her to fill him, he wanted to hold _her_ not just some other girl.

After Elita had calmed down a bit, Dean sentenced her to a shower while the boys tried to clean up. So Elita undressed and carefully eased her sore body under the waterfall. And while Sam disposed of the body, Dean gathered their things and loaded the Impala. "You ready to get the hell out of here?" Dean asked when Elita was out of the shower and dressed again. She didn't bother putting anything nice on, just sweats and a t-shirt with her boots and her hair pulled up in a ponytail.

She nodded eagerly as she packed up her things. "Hell yes!" she said enthusiastically, handing her bag to Sam who loaded it into the Impala. He said he'd call Bobby outside and left Elita and Dean in the room alone.

"Look, Dean," Elita began, grabbing a beer and popping it open. "I'm sorry I was so emotional back there. I guess something just snapped inside me when I killed that shape shifter. It was bad enough that I had to face killing things again, I had to kill _you _as well."

"It wasn't me, Lita." Dean insisted, grabbing a beer for himself. They both took calculated sips as they stared at each other.

"True, but it sure as hell looked like you. I just needed to let some emotion out and unfortunately you were the nearest victim." Elita said with a humorless chuckle and turned to gather the rest of the bags. But Dean reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close in so she was just touching his chest.

He leaned down close to her ear and whispered, "Anytime, love." in that husky voice of his that had her knees trembling. She didn't move as he kissed her temple once before disappearing outside and leaving her to hyperventilate. How was it that he still had such a strong hold on her heart?

"Ready?" Sam's voice rang in Elita's ears and she forced herself to snap back to reality with a weak smile. She nodded, grabbing the last bag and flicking the light switch off as she left the motel room. She climbed into the back of the Impala and laid down, too tired to even sit up and pretend to care where they were going. Sam got in the passenger seat and they waited for Dean in silence.

When Dean got in, he called out, "Let's hit the road and never come back, huh?" and pulled the Impala out of the parking lot like a speed demon. Elita just closed her eyes, her head resting on one of the clothing bags that either belonged to Sam or Dean- who, she wasn't sure, nor did she care. They drove for what seemed like an hour or so as Elita watched the street lights pass out the back window. She wasn't sure why she couldn't sleep- she sure was tired enough- but she stayed quiet and prayed for unconsciousness.

Sam shuffled in his seat then turned to Dean. Elita didn't make a sound but she felt like maybe he'd looked back at her. "Dean," Sam whispered. "You know you have to talk about this, man."

"No, no I don't, Sam. Drop it." Dean replied curtly and Elita knew Sam had looked back at her. Checking to make sure she was asleep before he broached this topic with Dean. Elita listened carefully but stayed quiet- now pretending to be asleep like she wished she was.

"You can't deny this one, Dean I'm not going to let you. You and Elita have something rare, Dean and I know you know it. If you let this girl go now, you're really going to regret it." Sam told him seriously and Elita fought the urge to gasp.

"Shut up, Doctor Phil. I can handle my own love life thank you very much." Dean snapped and it was silent for a long minute. Elita closed her eyes but didn't move. Dean shuffled to look back at Elita before he turned back around and murmured, "I just can't do it, Sam. I literally can't stand in the way of her and…Jesse."

"You had her first." Sam said with a chuckle and Dean punched his arm. "Okay I'm sorry but its true. I mean, you loved her first. And she's not married yet. If the Notebook taught us anything, its that there's still a little wiggle room when you're engaged."

"Dude, you watched The Notebook?" Dean teased with a chuckle and Elita fought to laugh in the backseat.

"Shut up, you know what I mean, Dean. Until its legal, she's still fair game." Sam replied and silence once again filled the car. Dean seemed to think about it real hard for when he answered, his voice was hoarser then usual.

"I literally _can't _stand in the way of what she wants, Sam." he mumbled gruffly. "It would kill me to take her away from something she really wanted."

"But you don't know what she wants."

"And neither does she. But trust me, Sammy. When she decides what she wants, I'll be there. Praying its me and not him."

"And if it's not you?" Sam asked and the car grew silent once more. Elita held her breath in the backseat.

Dean finally sighed. "Then its not me." was all he said but Elita could hear a certain thickness in his voice. When he meant was if it wasn't him, he'd never really get over it.


	15. Chapter 15

Elita was asleep when Dean pulled the Impala up to Bobby's place, so Sam rushed inside with the bags while Dean tried to wake her. He opened his door and got out, slamming the door extra hard, jolting her awake. She stared out the window angrily as Dean chuckled and strutted away towards the house. Elita grabbed her bag out of the back seat, and when she did so her phone fell to the gravel. She gingerly picked it up, realizing it had been a while since she had contacted Jesse and he was probably worried sick.

So she flipped the phone open and dialed Jesse's number. "Hi honey." Elita said when Jesse answered. She could already hear the relief in his voice when he replied.

"Hon, it's been a while since I heard from you. Are you okay?" Jesse asked worriedly. Elita paced in front of the car as she talked on the phone.

"I'm sorry we got really busy and I couldn't get away to give you a call."

"Is everything okay?" Jesse asked and Elita caught her reflection in the car window. Her forehead was angry red with a big cut just at her hair line. She would be able to cover the rest of her bruises with makeup but the cut was too bad to cover. Jesse would ask when he saw her again and so she started coming up with excuses as she talked.

"Yeah everything is going okay. I'm busy and everything but I'll be home tomorrow." Elita said as she spun in absent circles. Her boots kicked up dirt and gravel and she made a humorous- if grotesquely accurate- connection to her relationship with Dean. She was fine sitting on the ground just like the gravel then Dean- clearly the boot- had to come around and knock her around. And now she was stuck trying to find a new place to settle.

"Oh I'm so excited. I've missed you." Jesse said happily. Elita smiled as she turned around, her smile fading as she caught Dean's eyes as he stood in the porch threshold.

"I missed you, too." Elita murmured, unsure if she was still talking to Jesse, or if she'd started talking to Dean. They stared at each other as Jesse talked in her ear.

"I have to go now," Elita told Jesse as she forcibly looked away from Dean. "But I'll see you soon.""Alright, babe. I love you." Jesse said and Elita replied then quickly hung up. She slid the phone into her back pocket and grabbed her bag again, walking towards Dean.

"So you're going back tomorrow?" Dean asked, stopping her with a hand on her waist. She looked up at him with an almost dull look in her eyes. The sun was just rising behind Bobby's house and a golden ring formed around Elita's hazel eyes.

"I'll leave today if you'd rather it." she teased half-heartedly. Dean didn't appreciate the humor- or maybe the lack there of.

"You know what I'd rather." he murmured in his husky voice as he slipped his arm around her waist. He leaned in and kissed her square on the mouth. Elita's eyes slid shut as she lost herself in the taste of his lips on hers.

"You don't know what you do to me." she grumbled as they pulled apart and she rested her forehead against his.

"Maybe I do." he whispered, touching her lips with his just once more before pulling the bag off her shoulder and bringing it inside with him. Elita let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Definitely the boot." Elita mumbled.

* * *

><p>"You don't have to leave so soon you know." Bobby mumbled dejectedly as Elita packed up her things. Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table indulging in a glass of gin and the leftovers from the meal Elita had made the previous night.<p>

"I do," Elita countered, grabbing things and tossing them in her bag on the chair across from Bobby. "Jesse is beginning to seriously worry about me. And I'm going to have a hard enough time covering these bruises, I don't need more lies."

"There sure have been enough of those." Bobby replied, finishing the last bite and standing up. He grabbed a shotgun off the counter and handed it to her. She was going to refuse it but he gave her a serious look and said, "I'll worry less if I know you have it." so she took it. She grabbed her final item and put it in her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

She headed for the front door but stopped in the study to give Sam a hug. "I'll see you soon, Punk." she said as she reached up to hug him. She still couldn't get over how huge he'd gotten. She had to stand on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his neck. He hugged her in earnest, wrapping both is arms around her waist and holding tight. When they pulled apart, she touched his cheek for just one second before turning and heading out the door.

She'd already said her goodbyes to Bobby but she was avoiding Dean like her life depended on it. She wasn't sure when she'd see him again- she wasn't sure of anything at all- and all it would take was one look from Dean and she'd be even more frazzled. He'd been asleep upstairs when she started packing and she hadn't seen him at all, so she was hoping to just throw her things in the Roadrunner and bolt before he even woke up. She felt like a teenager again. She opened the truck and threw her bags inside, taking the shotgun to the front seat with her but she didn't get in just yet. She stopped for the smallest second.

"So you'll be back then?" a husky voice that was so undeniably Dean's called out from behind her and she almost smiled. Of course she wasn't going to get away easy- that never happens to her, never happens to a hunter. When she turned to look at Dean, she did smile. Because he was in sweatpants and his hair was messy; his eyes were red as he rubbed them with the back on his hand. She couldn't deny how adorable he looked and she also couldn't deny the hope in his eyes.

"We'll see," And with that she winked and got into the car. She drove away from Bobby's place while Dean leaned against the doorway with a lazy smile on his face.

"Why are you smiling?" Sam asked as Dean made his way back inside. "You may never see her again, Dean."

"No, I'll see her." Dean promised, grabbing a glass of water to chug. "I'll see her again real soon."

* * *

><p>Elita had barely been home a few days and she was already missing Bobby and the boys. But the thing that scared her the most was that she missed hunting. She missed having a lethal weapon in her hand and with it, yielding a kind of power most people never experience. She caught herself staring at the knives in the kitchen with an unusual longing. Cutting up meat wasn't enough anymore. When she'd gotten back to Jesse, he wanted to know what she'd done and how Bobby was. But more then that, he wondered what the hell had happened to her- considering she came home pretty knocked up and bruised. The story she'd spoon fed him was that she'd fallen down the stairs while trying to get Bobby something from downstairs. She was fine but she'd knocked herself around a bit.<p>

"Oh, you have to be more careful!" he'd said after she lied to him. "You can't be careless around dangerous things." he'd tagged and that almost made Elita laugh. Her of all people was being lectured about being careless in dangerous situations. She was almost as paranoid as Bobby.

Things hadn't exactly gone back to normal but they were better then she thought they would've been. Of course her random trip was the talk of the town though. She didn't hear the end of it from her neighbors. They asked too many invasive questions so Elita spent most of her time in the garage. She didn't know where else to go.

"Hey," a sweet voice came from behind her as she worked under the hood of the Roadrunner. "Figure out what was making that rattling noise yet?" Jesse asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I think so. I want to tinker with it a bit more yet. I want to be 100% sure." she replied, setting the wrench to the side and wiping off her hands on a dirty red cloth. Jesse took a step back and leaned against the side of the car lazily while she stared at the engine, wishing it would just up and tell her what was wrong with it.

"Can you afford one little brake?" Jesse murmured and Elita asked why. "Because I was thinking we should go out tonight. It's been a while since we went on a date and I've missed seeing you recreantly." Jesse requested and Elita couldn't deny him. It had been a while since they went out, or spent quality time together. Her infidelity was proof enough of that.

"Sure, we can go out tonight." she finally agreed with a weak smile. She was troubled by the idea for multiple reasons but she didn't want to raise any red flags. So she pretended to be happy about the idea.

"Great! Hurry up and get cleaned up so we can leave soon- its getting late already. Wear something really pretty and I'll take you out to dinner." Jesse said enthusiastically as he kissed her cheek. He dashed out of the garage and to the house to get himself ready. But Elita stayed behind an extra minute. She slammed the hood of her car shut and put away the tools she'd taken out before she went back up to the house.

As she walked the path to the house, she scanned the area; feeling like someone was watching her. She didn't see anything though so she brushed it off and kept a pocket knife close by.

* * *

><p>Elita was still getting ready and hour later when someone rang the doorbell. She called for Jesse to get it because she was still struggling to finish off her outfit. He hurried to it, lacing up his tie as he bolted down the steps yelling up for her to be faster.<p>

She was wearing a tight black dress that hugged her curves and was a bit too low cut for the neighborhood; but she couldn't care less. She'd actually spent some time on her hair and makeup, donned earrings Jesse had gotten her and finally slid into her red pumps. She had to admit, she looked good. It'd been a while since she looked in the mirror and truly thought she looked sexy. She always felt like hunting gave her a dangerous and sexy appeal and without hunting, she just didn't feel sexy. Dean had made her feel sexy when he'd come to her, sweeping her off her feet and treating her like nothing but royalty. Then she started hunting again. She was on cloud nine in terms of her self-esteem, but underneath the outward beauty was a miserable fornicator. So why didn't see feel guilty…

Downstairs, Jesse opened the front door while fixing his tie, but he didn't recognize the gentlemen standing on his doorstep. "Can I help you?" Jesse asked curiously. He looked past the butch- almost rough looking- man to see an antique car on the street outside the house. A car he'd never seen before nor was it a car model he recognized.

The man on the stoop looked Jesse up and down for a second, and something flashed in his eyes- sadness or some sort of similar emotion- but he masked it skillfully and quickly. "You're Jesse then," he half grumbled and Jesse could barely hear him. "Is Elita home?" the man said louder and Jesse looked him up and down. He couldn't think of any way to describe the man in front of him. He was dirty looking and- to be frank- kind of poor looking. But there was something about his appearance and deep voice that was all together frightening. He had a wide frame and large calloused hands. If he didn't look somewhat like a male model; well he could very well pass for a serial killer.

"Yeah, I'll get her." Jesse replied as he stopped fidgeting with his tie and narrowing his eyes at the man on his stoop. He had half the mind to make the man wait on the stoop while he questioned Elita about the mysterious man but he couldn't be rude. So he let him in and closed the door behind him, hurrying upstairs to Elita.

"Almost ready, I promise." she mumbled as she hopped on one foot, trying to get her shoes on without sitting down. Jesse chuckled at her as he steadied her with hands on her shoulders.

"You look beautiful," he said sweetly, kissing her quickly. "I have some more getting ready to do, but there's someone downstairs waiting for you. Best hurry down." Jesse replied then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Elita slightly mystified. She headed out of the room immediately.

She nearly fell down the stairs when she saw the man standing in the foyer. He watched her descend the staircase in sheer amazement. She looked _great_ no matter what, but when she really tried, damn could she look good. He had to stop himself from gaping at her as the tight black dress hugged her like he wished he could.

"Dean!" she nearly gasped as she hit the bottom step. "What the hell are you doing here?" she accused, stepping closer to him. But he just smiled that cocky Dean smile and shrugged real nonchalantly.

"Where are you going?" he asked, avoiding the question as he continued to objectify her. She pulled his chin up as he was staring at her hips.

"Like what you see?" she said sarcastically but of course he nodded enthusiastically and winked at her. She could've slapped him.

"Dean, you cannot be here!" But as she was saying so, Jesse came down the stairs, finally ready to go. He wrapped his arm around Elita's waist as she stepped back from Dean. She kind of just stared down at Jesse's hand as if it was burning her. He'd never been one for shows of affection in public so he was clearly being territorial and Elita did not respect being treated like a commodity.

"Dean is it?" Jesse asked, extending his other hand out to Dean who shook his hand hard. "And how do you two know each other?"

"Old friends. We grew up together, sort of. Went to high school together." Dean replied fluently, looking at Elita with a pleasant smile. "Isn't that right?"Elita stared at him. "Yup, I've known Dean and his little brother for years. We haven't been in contact lately though."

"It's a shame really, because I've been up to a lot of fun things, Lita and I'd love to tell you about them." Dean said with a sadistic smile. She chuckled under her breath at the though of the apocalypse being fun things. "I was hoping we could catch up."

"Actually, Elita and I were about to head out. Maybe some other time though." Jesse said possessively and just for that, Elita scooted out from under his arm. She was seeing a side of him that she definitely did not like. Protectiveness was okay but possessiveness was not.

"I didn't get a chance to go into town and get a room yet and I can't stay very long." Dean said then intensely locked eyes with Elita. "But this is a friendly neighborhood. Charmingly safe." he said and Elita narrowed her eyes. He was using code. Something they'd established a long time ago. Words like 'friendly' or 'charming' and especially 'safe' were almost always code for 'mean' or 'dodgy' or 'dangerous'.

Jesse opened his mouth to say something but Elita cut in. His use of their safety words, and the panic deep in his green eyes, was proof enough. Elita wasn't going to question it. So she said, "You can stay here," before Jesse had a chance to protest. "We have a spare room that you can use. And you wouldn't have to worry about going into town at all. Stay here in the safe and friendly neighborhood." she said, questioning the code words. Dean winked ever so slightly and Elita knew she'd assumed right.

"Umm…" was all Jesse could mumble out of shock.

"We can go out some other time," she said dismissively, patting Jesse's arm. She'd snapped into action mode much faster then she anticipated. "Come on, Dean. Let me get you a drink." she said, motioning for him to join her in the kitchen. Dean fought the urge to wink at Jesse.

But as soon as they were away from Jesse's preying ears, she stepped real close and whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I got a tip," Dean replied equally as quiet. "I don't know how credible it is- it could be nothing- but I heard some demons found you. I wasn't sure if they'd come for you so I thought I'd come warn you…and maybe stick around and help out? I'm as good a protector as anybody." he said adorably and Elita smiled a little.

"Yeah I know that much; you've saved me plenty of times before." she replied with a light chuckle. "And thank you. I knew this would happen eventually but I always wondered if I'd get a fair warning. So thanks for that-" she began to say but cut herself short as Jesse came into the kitchen. Elita flew to the other side of the room faster then Dean though humanly possible. He chuckled at her. He couldn't help but feel like it was old times all over again- where they were sneaking around and not letting anyone see them together. The days when just being together was thrilling enough because there was such a high chance they could get caught.

"It's so funny that I didn't know much at all about Elita's past until recreantly. Her uncle having that heart attack and now you showing up." Jesse said as he entered the kitchen and brought three beers out of the fridge. He sat them on the island but neither Dean nor Elita reached for them. Best be sober in case anything happened tonight.

"Yeah it was a shame about Bobby's heart attack." Dean mumbled, eyeing Elita who just shrugged.

"You knew him?" Jesse asked and Dean just nodded his head. "Remind me again how you two know each other?"

"Dean and I went to school together. He and I were graduating about the same time his little brother Sam started high school. They were only around for a short while." Elita replied, finally reaching for one of the bottles of beer. If she was going to stand in this white-washed kitchen with Dean and Jesse, she better be drunk.

"Yeah, my family travels quite a bit so we didn't get long together; only about two weeks." Dean said, staring right at Elita who stared right back. Jesse watched them stare and nearly snapped his fingers at Dean.

"What do they do?"

"My dad was in the…extermination business." Dean said and Elita chuckled under her breath. "He liked big game though so we'd ride around the country in his 67' Impala chasing down the nasty things people don't want hanging around. My brother and I took over when he died."

"That sounds so…_interesting_." Jesse replied with wide eyes. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"They're invisible heroes." Elita said then motioned for Dean to head into the living room with her. "I'm going to change quick." she said and Dean smiled at her.

"Oh no not on my account." he flirted, eyeing her again. She really needed to make a point of dressing up more often. If she could get these kinds of reactions from a simple black dress and pumps, she could only imagine what she could get a guy to do when she truly tried her hardest. She watched Dean's eyes travel the entire length of her body slowly, appreciating the view. She gave him a dirty look then headed up stairs, leaving Dean and Jesse alone.

Jesse just stared at Dean, making him uncomfortable. "So you two dated?" Jesse finally said, leaning back into the couch. Dean looked up; kind of shocked Jesse was so straight forward. Upstairs, Dean could hear Elita turn on Aerosmith and he chuckled. She was intentionally giving him the opportunity to have a man-to-man with Jesse. But what she didn't realize was that Dean's intentions weren't entirely pure.

"Yeah we did." Dean replied honestly, resting his elbows against his knees. "We were teenagers then."

"Some feelings last a while. You know what I mean?"

"I do." They stared at each other for a long minute. "Can you blame me?" Dean finally asked, raising an eyebrow at Jesse. "She's not exactly easy to let go of. You have to have a death grip in order to hold onto her but once you have her, it's pretty damn hard to let go."


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: Okay, so the way I have it figured out is that there will be two more chapters after this and that's where I'll end the story. However, I have a bunch of one-shots written with this character (having written them but then never finding a place within the story for them) So I will probably end up putting those up as well =) So for now, enjoy!

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><p>Dean laid his bag on the spare bedroom bed with a thud. The room was light blue and the bedspread was white. "I see Jesse decorates." he mumbled to himself as he unzipped his bag and pulled out his toothbrush. However, before he even got it out Elita came into the room.<p>

"Talk." she demanded harshly, slamming the bedroom door shut equally as harsh. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What?" Dean asked, looking like a deer caught in truck headlights. Elita put her hands on her hips and his shocked/worried look only intensified.

"I talked to Sam," Elita said and Dean sighed. "According to him you didn't get any tip and when you left, you told them not to call. What the hell are you doing, Dean?"

"I'm fighting." Dean replied, looking her square in the eye. She looked confused.

"Fighting what?"

"For," Dean corrected and Elita couldn't help but become frustrated.

"I'm beyond lost." she moaned. "So I'm going to ask you once more; what the hell are you doing here, Dean?"

"I'm fighting _for_ something." Dean replied and smiled as she started turning red.

"Fighting _for_ what?" she snapped, stomping her foot against the carpet with a pathetic thud. Dean chuckled at her, folding his arms across his chest comfortably.

"You," Dean said smoothly and Elita froze stock still. "I'm fighting for you, Elita."

It took her a minute but eventually Elita sighed heavily as she looked real distressed. Dean took a step towards her- wanting to wrap his arms around her again- but she held up her hand to stop him. Her fingertips just barely touched his chest.

"Why are you doing this, Dean? Can't you just leave well enough alone?" Elita whispered, unable to raise her voice any louder. Dean just kind of shrugged a little.

"Because I'm too stubborn to let another great thing slip through my fingers. Or maybe because I don't think I can take losing you again." he replied easily then smiled as he said, "I'm betting on the latter."

Dean's voice lingered in the air as they stared at each other for a long minute. They were both fighting the urge to scream 'screw it!' and drop to the floor and consummate it but Jesse was there in the back of both of their minds. And Jesse chose that opportune moment to yell up the stairs for Elita.

"Be right down!" Elita yelled back, heading for the door with a rueful look. Dean's hands curled into fists at his side. Yet another moment lost…

Elita paused between the half open door and turned to look at him. "Fight fair," she pleaded.

"I make no promises." Dean replied with his trademark cocky smile and she sighed. She gave him a look that proved to him that she didn't know who would win this fight. As she left he promised himself to be the champion. He wasn't just being clever and charming when he said he couldn't lose her again. He'd already done so once; he wasn't going to lose her a second time. If he lost this fight, he would give up entirely. A good hooker every few weeks would just have to suffice.

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><p>"I don't want him here." Jesse's voice came from the dinning room as he and Elita set the table for dinner. Dean could smell Elita's amazing cooking all the way from upstairs and he'd come to investigate his options. But instead of heading in, he stood just outside the doorway and listened to the conversation about him.<p>

"I don't either but I'm not going to kick him out, Jesse. It'll only be for a day or two then he'll be out of here." Elita said as she set out plates for the three of them. "Just forget him, okay? We'll eat here tonight and tomorrow we'll go on that date."

"He still likes you." Jesse blurted out. Elita didn't so much as stumble a little as she moved from the dinning room to the kitchen and back again.

"Don't be silly, Jesse, of course Dean doesn't still like me. We were kids when he and I dated. Its history,"

"I talked to him! He practically admitted to still having feelings for you! And I don't like him being in my home. I'm not going to put up with him flirting with you, Elita."

"He won't! Would you calm down? You don't wear jealousy well." Elita replied and there was a long beat of silence and Dean took it as the right moment to make his presence known.

"What smells so delicious?" Dean asked as he entered the dinning room, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"I thought we'd stay in for dinner tonight." Elita suggested with a pleasant smile. "It's nothing fancy but it's a home cooked meal."

"Oh you spoil me, Lita, this is great!" Dean said enthusiastically. He kissed Elita's cheek as he passed her to take his seat. He wanted to look up and smile at Jesse for he could feel the man's eyes burrowing into his skull. It was fun messing with Doctor Jesse Douche Bag.

Dean and Elita talked over dinner and Jesse stayed relatively quiet. He asked a few questions but other then that, he wasn't doing too much talking, just festering. Dean took sick delight in it. Dean was finishing his second slice of the delicious pie Elita had made when someone knocked on the door. Elita rose to get it and Dean smiled at Jesse, who was turning an evil shade of red.

"I hope you're having fun," Jesse said then, his tone deep and malevolent. "Because if you so much as _think_ about touching her, I'll break your fingers."

Dean smiled even wider. The thought of Jesse trying to break his fingers was highly amusing to Dean. Jesse was threatening a man who'd murdered more creatures (and people) then he cared to count. "That's cute," Dean tormented and Jesse just about busted.

Elita poked her head into the doorway then. "Jesse can you take Mrs. Sheer to the airport? Her car broke down." Elita asked and Jesse stood up.

Jesse whispered something to Elita as he moved passed and Dean could hear him say, "Of course I can take you to the airport, Mrs. Sheer. Let's take my car out front."

The house was silent as they listened to Jesse's car start and the doors close before it drove down the street. Elita made work of clearing the dinning room table as Dean scooped the last bite of pie into his mouth and brought the empty plate into the kitchen behind Elita.

"You have a great place here." Dean said sarcastically as he turned the sink on and washed his plate. Elita began stack plates by the sink, not entirely surprised Dean was doing the dishes. As he said earlier, he wasn't fighting fair.

"It's safe. That's what I care about." Elita replied, hoisting herself up onto the counter next to the sink. She grabbed a towel and dried the plates Dean handed her after washing them. She stacked them to her left. It was silent as Dean's stack of dirty dishes grew smaller and Elita's stack of dry dishes got larger. They worked fluently for a few minutes until everything was cleaned and or soaking in soapy water. Elita was drying the last plate when Dean leaned against the island across from her. The plate was out of her hands for a second before Dean moved forward and captured her face and her lips. He kissed her hard as he held her face to his.

"We shouldn't." he heard her whisper but she scooted closer to him anyway. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he wound one arm around her waist and twisted his other hand in her hair. Her strong hands pulled at his short hair and he moaned a little, turning her on even more. Dean hoisted her up effortlessly and carried her over to the living room where he laid them down on the sofa. He laid atop her as he kissed her neck and she held onto his hips tightly.

"How close is the airport?" Dean asked as he kissed her collar bone. He undid the first few buttons of her blouse and kissed between her breasts. Elita threw her head back in pleasure as she knotted her hands in his hair once more.

"Too close," she breathed and forced his mouth back to hers. His hands tightened on her hips so hard she was afraid he would leave a mark. But she liked the sensation all too much. They held each other incredibly close for a minute longer before they pulled apart.

"That wasn't fair at all." Elita chuckled as she re-buttoned her shirt. Dean answered by kissing her tenderly right on the lips. She sighed when he pulled away. She cursed him under her breath as he helped to button up her shirt and slide off of her on the couch. He sat on the floor in front of her and she reached to entangle her fingers in his hair as she kissed his cheek and whispered, "You're winning." in his ear. He smiled as she gently bit his ear lob then moved away.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she walked away. She stopped in the doorway with an easy smiled as she winked.

"Cold shower."

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><p>Dean watched as Elita and Jesse sat down in the living room to talk. He'd been more silent than he thought possible when he snuck down the stairs to hear them have this conversation. Jesse brought it up when he got back from dropping the neighbor off at the airport. Dean just knew it was going to turn into a fight or at least an argument. He was just outside the room- still in ears range but out of sight. Jesse probably didn't even have a clue. Dean even doubted whether or not his impressive hunter friend knew he was there.<p>

"What's up?" Elita asked real nonchalantly and Dean could practically hear Jesse's anger boiling already.

"You know what's up." Jesse said and Elita heaved a sigh. She was about to say something but he silenced her and kept talking. "I am absolutely not okay with that Dean character in my house."

"I thought this was supposed to be _our_ home, Jesse? That's what you're always saying." Elita snapped.

"Until your judgment isn't so clouded, Elita, the house is under my control."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Elita whisper-yelled.

"You clearly aren't thinking straight, Elita. You're letting that man confuse you." Jesse told her and Dean could picture Elita trying to control her anger and calm herself down. She could be really funny when she was angry- it was scary and cute at the same time.

"My judgment is crystal-fucking-clear, Jesse. And if you question me again…" She let her sentence trail off. Jesse didn't even know how dangerous she could be. She knew a million ways to kill him; and that's just with her bare hands. He wasn't even able to imagine all the tortuous things she could do with a weapon. Of course she'd never hurt him that way, but Dean knew what she was capable and he'd never cross her. He kind of felt bad for the poor ignorant bastard. He'd never fuck with her if he really knew her.

"Do you even know his last name!" Jesse accused.

"Winchester. His last name is Winchester. His little brother is Sam, his dad is John and his mother's name was Marry. It's his job to look after Sammy and vice versa. I know that Dean was never truly appreciated by anyone _but_ Sam growing up and he didn't exactly have a _nice_ childhood. I know that John could sometimes be a complete ass and Marry died when Dean was four. I know a hell of a lot about that man and he is my friend. So I recommend that you don't talk shit about him, Jesse. Cause I won't put up with it." Elita spat. She was breathing heavily when she finally finished.

Dean leaned his head against the wall. She could say so much more than that. She knew practically everything about him but it had only taken her two weeks to figure it all out. She could read him like a fucking open book. It scared him to death.

"So are you choosing him over me or something, Elita?" Jesse asked then and Dean froze.

"This isn't a choice I can make when you people are breathing down my neck!" Elita yelled. "I don't want to choose between the two of you in the first place but oh my god you are making it so impossible!"

The air in the living room seemed to swarm around Elita as she tried sucking in deep breaths but found her lungs almost incapable. "I love you," she said more softly. "You know I do. But you have to trust me on this one. Dean and I have a past and you and I have a present. Its equal playing fields here."

"Yeah but which one of us has a future, Elita?" Jesse snapped, hitting something. Dean spun around the corner for a split second to make sure he hadn't hit her. And when he was sure Jesse had punched the recliner, he disappeared from sight again. He was sure neither of them had seen him. "I can't take this. You have no right to do this! If you want my heart, than take it. But don't toss me around like a toy, Elita. I don't deserve that."

"I know, Jesse, I am sorry! But I don't know what to do here. Either way this goes someone gets hurt." Elita whispered. Dean could swear he heard a soft sob in her voice that she masked skillfully. He was fighting the urge to go in there and hold her tight. He wished there was some way he could make the choice easier on her without losing her entirely.

Jesse didn't say anything for a long minute and Dean was starting to think he should make his presence known. But than Jesse mumbled, "Well I hope you're happy with whatever you chose. Because I'm not waiting around forever." than stormed upstairs.

Dean slowly moved around the corner but Elita didn't see him there. He watched her reflection in the glass table; watched a single tear slide down her cheek. She sniffled, looking more pissed than he'd ever seen in his life. Her hands were balled into fists but she was crying. Practically sobbing. The weight on her shoulders was too much for her. As quickly as that tear fell, she swiped it away and straightened up. She put on a strong face and walked away. Dean watched her go out to the garage and turn the light on. Even from the house, he could hear her in there messing with the tools and the inside of her car. He gave her a few minutes than walked out to see her. He opened the door slowly; gauging her response. She didn't seem too upset to see him so he entered and propped his hips against a work bench.

She was bent over the open hood, trying to loosen a stripped nut. She pulled and pulled on the wrench but it barely budged. Until it gave way and she racked her knuckles against sharp metal. She barely even grimaced as the skin on top of her hand was violently ripped away and blood dripped between her fingers. She twisted the nut completely off and tossed it into the garbage. He watched her shake her hand to shake off the quickly flowing blood from her fingers. She went right back to work. That is, until Dean grabbed a somewhat clean cloth and went to her side.

He touched her shoulder first and when she turned to him, he tenderly took her wounded hand in his and wrapped the cloth around her fingers. She hadn't done major damage but blood was already seeping through the thin cloth as he tried to stop it. He held her hand in his as he held the cloth against her skin. And eventually she let her head collapse onto his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. They just stood there for a long moment.

"I'm sorry this is hard on you." Dean chocked out and she pulled back to look at him.

She shrugged. "Picking sides always hurts." she whispered. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"If it's any consolation, I think Jesse treated you horribly in there." Dean said. She glared at him for listening in on their conversation. "You're not a child and you're not stupid, Lita. You're beautiful and lethal and amazing. And you don't deserve to be yelled at like that. I mean, if he just knew all the ways I want to hurt him for that…" Dena let his sentence trail off and she chuckled.

"Wouldn't that go against the Dean Winchester rule to never hurt an innocent?" she teased.

"Like hell he's innocent." Dean said but smiled at her. "Look," He got serious than, holding her at arms length and looking her in the eye. "I don't like him and if you choose him I'll probably never be okay with it. But I want you to know how things are going to be different if you chose me. I'm protective as hell and really paranoid. I just don't get to keep nice things like you, Lita. So I go a little crazy sometimes and suffocate the people I love. But it's all in good nature."

"Like your wanting to kill Jesse for yelling at me."

"Precisely. If you and I work out, you're going to have to put up with some crazy-ass crap most people wouldn't put up with in a million years."

"And what if I'm willing to?" Elita asked and Dean cocked an eyebrow at her. "Theoretically, I mean."

"Of course," Dean smiled. "Well…theoretically, I'd make you the happiest and most smothered girl on the planet." he said and they laughed. But they both knew it was true.


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: So I've been thinking recently, and I believe I'm going to make a sequel! I just don't feel like these guys are done! And there's so much more I want to do with Elita and Dean. So there will be one more chapter to this story then I'll start the sequel =) I hope ya'll will stay tuned and read the sequel as well =) Enjoy!

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><p>"I don't see how this is going to end well at all for anyone involved." Elita told Dean as they stood- too close- in the garage. He'd been staying with her and Jesse for almost three days already and he had no plans of leaving. He and Jesse had been very obviously battling it out for Elita's affection the whole time. She was beginning to feel like a commodity. "I think you should just go home, Dean. If I'm going to make any kind of decision I'm going to make it on my own terms, you know that. So your being here doesn't change anything."<p>

"Liar," Dean accused as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You said it yourself that you don't think straight when I'm around and I'm counting on those twisted thoughts to be my wingman. I know I don't stand a chance without them."

"What do you mean?" Elita asked, moving a step away from him if just so she could breathe without smelling his musk.

"I may not like this tool," Dean started off. "But Jesse can give you a whole lot of shit that I can't. And I'm not just talking about diamond rings- I know you're not that shallow. I can't give you diamonds, but I also can't give you the sense of security that he can. With him you know for sure that he's not bringing a bag of bodies along. That's a guarantee with me. You'll never be safe if you're with me."

"You're wrong." Elita said simply, her expression and her tone softening. "I feel _tenfold _the amount of security when I'm with you. Knock on wood; if anything happens to come after me, at least with you I know I have backup. I don't think Jesse's ever even held a gun in his life. You bring extra baggage but you also bring weapons to defend yourself."

Dean thought for a long minute, just letting her words sink in. "True," he finally admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But are you ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with a guy who has six bucks to his name?"

"I don't know yet," Elita sighed as she looked down. She didn't want to be admitting these things to him. She knew they were only hurting him more. But they needed to be said. Dean needed to know that she wasn't sure what she wanted yet. The game wasn't over but it would come down to the final seconds. "I don't know anything right now. And it's not just because you smell like Old Spice and gunpowder." she teased.

"I'll tell you what," Dean said, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight. She absently played with the collar of his shirt. "If me being here is making this more difficult for you say so and I'll leave. I'll do that for you. But if I'm not hindering I'd like to stick around for a bit- if just to see you as much as possible before you reject me." Elita went to protest but he shook his head. "Don't sugarcoat it. I'm a big boy; I can take whatever you have to tell me."

"You should leave." Elita replied sternly.

"Ouch," Dean was being genuine but he chuckled. "I was really hopping you wouldn't say that. Okay fine I'll leave. But you'll call me either way? I don't care if you call then hang up; just don't leave me hanging hoping maybe one day you'll come around choosing me."

"I'll see your phone call and raise you a visit? If I stick around here I at least want to say bye to Sammy." Elita replied and Dean nodded encouragingly. She let her head drop to his shoulder for a minute as he just held her. It was a good feeling. "I heard what you said in the car on the way back to Bobby's after we got that shifter in Blaine. About not being able to stand in the way of something I wanted." She lifted her head back so she could look him in the eyes. "What if I don't choose you, Dean?"

"Honestly? I don't know what happens then. I know whatever I do; I'll stay away from you. I won't bug you if I know he's what you truly want." Dean replied. Elita let her head fall back to his shoulder in frustration. She felt like crying. She wished she could have it both ways- the security and comfort Jesse provided as well as the pleasure and love Dean gave her. "I'll call Bobby and leave tonight, just give me some time to pack up."

They pulled away from each other slowly. Elita was truly fighting tears. Hot frustrated tears that boiled in her eyes and threatened to blur her vision. Dean went to move away from her but Elita quickly reached out to grab his hand. She figured if she wasn't going to see him for a while, she might as well have what she wanted before it left. So she pulled herself in close to him and kissed him softly on the lips. No one could kiss better then Dean Winchester; she was sure of it. He intertwined their fingers and tilted her chin up as he let his soft lips touch her own. Then he was gone; leaving to pack his things and possibly leave her life forever. When he was gone, she let those tears fall; feeling the weight of the decision she had to make; feeling the weight of love and loss all at the same time. Feeling more then she wanted to. She fell to the garage floor and curled her legs up to her chest as she cried.

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><p>Elita retyped her sentence a third time. She'd been working on this letter for an hour and it still barely had fifteen characters. She couldn't concentrate. Dean had left two days ago but she swore she could still smell him sometimes. She could still hear him singing in the shower upstairs in the guest bedroom. Or working in the garage with the music blaring. She leaned forward in the office chair, cradling her face in her hands. The headache building behind her eyes was starting to throb again but she couldn't find relief in anything. And she'd tried everything.<p>

"Are you okay?" Jesse's voice came from behind her and Elita quickly turned to see him standing in the threshold of the office. "You seem off."

"I'm just…a bit distracted right now." Elita replied truthfully. She didn't have to say _why_.

Jesse moved closer to her, pulling the curtain of her hair off her neck and kissing her there. "Why don't you come be distracted with me? Maybe upstairs where distraction is a good thing." Jesse suggested as he kissed her neck.

Elita sighed. He'd attempted to sleep with her a few times since Dean left; but he'd been unsuccessful the whole time. She just wasn't in the mood. "How long have we been together?" she asked out of the blue. Jesse froze, confused.

"Uhm…is this a test?"

"No I'm just wondering why we've been together so long."

Jesse pulled back, turning her chair so she had to look at him. "Because we love each other deeply and we want to spend our lives together. That's why we've been together, Elita. What's wrong?""But how much do we know about each other?""You don't like talking about your past-""I'm not talking about history. I'm talking about really knowing each other." Elita said and Jesse ran his hands down his face. He fell down into a large black leather chair across from her, propping his elbows up on his knees.

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

"Do you want kids?"

"Three or four. You?"

Elita shook her head no. "You ever do something illegal?"

"Not that I can say, no. I stole candy when I was a kid but I don't think that counts. You?"

"A ton. Have you ever done drugs or drank to the point of passing out?"

"I've been drunk but I don't think I've ever passed out and I've never done drugs other then medical. You?"

"Both. Who are your favorite authors?"

"Mark Twain and Harper Lee. You?"

"H.P. Lovecraft and Stephan King. So far these answers aren't lining up." Elita pointed out but Jesse encouraged her to keep asking questions. He was desperately gripping at straws. "What was your relationship with your parents like when you were growing up?"

"We were incredibly close. I miss my father dearly- I told you he died a few years ago. My mom is still one of my best friends. She lives in Florida though so I don't get to see her much. You know all this. When I was a kid we always took family vacations together. My mom cooked for us every night and we went to church on Sundays. You?"

"I never knew my birth father, my step-dad didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground and my mother died when I was fourteen. Bobby is the only person who's ever loved me properly."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Elita shook it off. "What's your longest relationship to date and what happened?"

"Besides you? I dated a woman named Trish for almost five years. She didn't want to get married or move forward in our relationship so eventually I broke it off. We haven't been in contact since. You?"

"Besides you? The longest any of my relationships have lasted was two weeks when I was a teenager. He moved." Elita looked down to the carpet. She'd never really talked about it out loud before. As she listened to herself speak, she heard how many problems she had. "What's your earliest childhood memory?"

"The mobile hanging over my crib when I was a baby. It had bunnies. Do I even want to know yours?"

"Standing between my mom and my step-father, trying to make them stop fighting. Oh wait…no my earliest childhood memory is actually of sleeping in the back of my mom's Roadrunner while she drove me to Bobby's for the week while she went away. Enter Sandman was my lullaby." Elita looked up at Jesse, who was slouching worse and worse. His face had hardened quite a bit since the conversation had begun.

"The Roadrunner was your moms? Where was she going?"

"Yes and that doesn't matter. She'd be gone for days at a time though. Have you ever had a near-death-experience?"

"I nearly drowned in a pool when I was a toddler but my dad saved me. I'm guessing you have?"

Elita just nodded, denying all the times she'd come so close to death. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"I honestly don't know anymore. I though it would be married to you, expecting a kid or something. But the way you're talking tonight makes me think we have different ideas of the future." Jesse snapped, his face landing in the palms of his hands.

"Wouldn't you rather get all this crap out now instead of latter when we're legally bound together?" Elita asked and silence answered her. "Next question; what's the highest educational qualification have you acquired?"

"I'm a surgeon, Elita."

"I graduated high school." Elita replied and Jesse looked up at him, shocked. "What did you do for summer when you were a kid?"

"My parents and I would go on a vacation every summer. We had a place in Martha's Vineyard but we traveled elsewhere as well. We always went somewhere though. When I was ten or so, we took my grandparents with us to the beach. And when I was a teenager I took friends along. During college, I went with my friends alone. My parents still visit Martha's Vineyard though."

Elita nodded at his pleasant memories. "When I wasn't in summer school, I spent my summers at Bobby's salvage yard. He'd teach me to fix up the cars sometimes. Other times we'd go out back and shoot at stuff. He taught me knife tricks too; like how to throw them and cool slight of hand tricks. He used to have a pool table when I was a kid and so he taught me how to play pool and poker and how to hustle. As weird as this is going to sound, those were the best times I can remember. If I weren't at Bobby's I was with my parents- and they were no fun at all."

Jesse just stared at her. "What the hell did your parents do for God sake? I mean how can someone leave their kid with a stranger so often? I don't understand your life at all, Elita. It scares me."

"I'm sorry." Elita mumbled, looking away. "Do you believe in the supernatural?"

Jesse stood up then, his arms flying into the air angrily. "C'mon, Elita what the fuck is going on here? What are you talking about? What's with these questions? If you're trying to leave me then just goddamn leave me. Don't drag me around like a doll."

"I'm not dragging you around! Don't you think this stuff is important?"

"I don't care, Elita! I don't care about your past or your views or any of it. I fell in love with _you_. Because you're beautiful and funny and I love being around you. I love you, Elita, isn't that enough?" Jesse pleaded. Elita couldn't look him in the eye. Not after all she'd done to him.

"I've been lying to you. This whole time. From the moment I met you, I've been lying to you." Elita forced herself to admit.

"About what Elita!" Jesse asked furiously and Elita finally look him in the eye.

* * *

><p>"You're going to break it." Sam mumbled as he sat by Dean in the salvage yard. Dean was working on fixing up one of Bobby's cars just so his hands had something to do. "Metal isn't supposed to bend like that, Dean."<p>

Dean flexed his muscles as he tried bending the sheet of metal once more. But his hand slipped and the silver metal bounced up and cracked him in the jaw so hard he tasted blood. He cursed, slamming everything to the ground. Sam chuckled, tossing his a water bottle to wash the blood from his mouth.

"You know working yourself like this isn't going to change the fact that Elita still hasn't called or visited. All its doing is knocking you around and making you more frustrated." Sam said as he watched Dean take a swig of the lukewarm water; slosh it around his mouth before spitting it in the dirt.

"Yeah well what do you suggest I do, Sam? I can't sit in that damn house twiddling my thumbs or else Bobby will shoot me. I can't work out here without you nagging me. I've got nowhere else to go and I've already consumed my weight in pie and alcohol." Dean replied curtly. He'd been mopping around since he left Elita place in the days prier. He just about rebuilt the car he was working on. Maybe he'd sell it- or keep it around for Sammy when they worked separate jobs- he hadn't decided yet. All he knew was it was helping him release some of that frustration.

"Catch a job maybe? I'm sure Bobby has something you could take care of. I'll stay here and help out with Bobby while you go clear your head and shoot some stuff." Sam suggested and Dean honestly thought about it for a minute. How wonky would it feel working a normal job again? Especially after everything he'd been through with Elita.

"I might actually do that." Dean replied but he doubted he would. He would be here at Bobby's place until Elita came to visit. He didn't care how desperate he was acting. Elita was his last hope and desperate measure. He didn't want to go it alone anymore. He wanted to go it with Elita. Without her around, he felt so alone. Even with Bobby and Sam next to him.

* * *

><p>Dean shifted his weight to his left foot as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He finished off the last drop of his beer and dropped it into the trash. That was his third. The more he drank the better he felt; but he still didn't feel well. It'd been too long. She hadn't called, hadn't visited. Nothing. Dean knew he lost. It still stung though. He went to the fridge and popped open another beer, trying to stifle the burn.<p>

Sam was out front blowing off some steam shooting at a tin atop a broken up car. He felt so cooked up at Bobby's house. He wouldn't leave knowing Dean was in such a bad place but he was slowly suffocating in the smell of alcohol and dust. He lined up his shot, aiming perfectly then pulling the trigger. The shot rang out and the tin fell over with a hole smack-dab in the middle. Sam would've been satisfied with himself if he felt better. He was just so angry. He was mad at Elita for waiting so long to choose. He was mad at Dean for letting her walk all over his heart. He was mad at Bobby for not stepping in a long time ago. He was mad at John for making him and Dean leave Elita fourteen years ago when Dean finally found something good. He was just plain mad.

"Nice shot," someone said behind him and he swiveled around. And there she was. The Roadrunner packed with bags and beer. Elita stood with a heartbreaking smile on her tearstained face. Her heart was on her sleeve and she was vulnerable.

"Nice choice," Sam replied with a smile. She chuckled and sighed at the same time. It definitely hadn't been an easy choice for her but she'd chosen wisely. Sam moved closer to her and patted the top of her head as she laughed at him.

"Thanks, punk." Elita replied, wrapping her arms around his waist. They shared a hug quickly before Bobby appeared on the porch. Elita looked around Sam to shrug at Bobby who nodded in return. He smiled proudly at her and she had to smile in return. She'd made one of the most difficult decisions of her life but it helped knowing she had these two boys backing her up. And Dean.

She moved away from Sam and passed Bobby and into the house, on the search for the stupid boy she'd come all this way to see. She found Dean in the kitchen nursing a beer. And by the looks of it, he'd already had quite a few. He looked like hell. But at the same time, he never looked better to her. His hair was all messy and standing in every which direction. His clothes were messy from working in the salvage yard and his chin had a nice bruise on it.

"That's very manly looking." she commented on his scrape as she grabbed his beer and drank. He stared at her, obviously trying to read her. She wasn't too sure what he was seeing but whatever it was, it kept the perplexed look on his face. He was practically scowling at her.

"So?" he mumbled and she nearly smiled.

She moved closer to him and whispered, "You won this round, asshole." with hands on his chest. He was slow to react- probably still processing the news- but when it finally clicked, he grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her hard on the mouth. She chuckled and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into him. His arms wound around her waist were tight as he picked her up.

"It feels so good to be the winner." Dean said with his face just an inch from hers.

"It better. Cause now you're stuck with me." They smiled at each other, reveling in each other's company. It felt so good to no longer be alone.


	18. Chapter 18

_Six months later…_

Dean pulled the Impala to the curb and threw it in park. He looked up at the large apartment building with great anticipation. It was the kind of place you saw on television. Somewhat spacious apartments with nice furniture and nice tenants. Too bad there was a hunter with a kill streak on the fourth floor. Dean shut off the car and went up to the doorman to ask permission to enter.

"Of course, go right ahead on up. The elevator is to the right." the tall gentlemen said as he opened the door for Dean. They shared a smile as he entered the building and headed towards the elevator doors. He pressed the up button and waited for the silver doors to open to him and when they did, he couldn't get in and press 4 fast enough. His hands were shaking. He was sweating bullets. He didn't even get this nervous when him and Sam took down a nest of vampires last month. As he waited for the elevator to ascend the four floors, he pulled the chain necklace out from under his tee shirt. He wore it all the time- only ever took it off if it was in danger of being ruined. He looked at the pentagram ring he'd once given away. He couldn't believe Elita had kept it all those years. She admitted that she hadn't worn it since that January, but she always kept it. It was in a box amidst other hidden things from her past. When she left Jesse she made sure that box came with her.

She told Jesse the truth before she left. From the beginning, she told him everything. But he didn't believe her- much like everyone else. He thought she'd gone insane. But Elita…she was okay. It made it slightly easier to leave. She didn't hesitate when she packed her Roadrunner and left the small suburban town. She didn't stop either as she drove to Bobby's place; once again looking for refuge and a place to stay. But she didn't stay long. And neither did the boys. Each caught separate cases and left for days and weeks at a time. Eventually Elita left for good to come here to Eagan, Minnesota. This is where she was putting down roots- four hours from Bobby's place. Four hours from where Sam and Dean had their roots already planted.

It only took a month before her and Dean realized they wouldn't be seeing much of each other. She was eager to start hunting again so she took just about every case she was handed. She managed to watch her own ass as well as Bobby's. Two months into being a hunter and she already saved Bobby's life once. Got to a rakshasa before it got to Bobby. Dean had to give her props for that one. When Elita decided to move to Minnesota, Dean accepted it. They spent a weekend holdup in a hotel room a half-hour from Bobby's place enjoying their last few days together before she left. They both knew it would be months before they saw each other again. She gave Dean the necklace before she left and he'd given Elita his watch. They both vowed to wear the accessories all the time. And they both did.

It had officially been five months since Dean had last seen Elita; two weeks since they last spoke even. She'd caught a case and gotten busy but not too busy to call and invite him over the next break he got. He made sure she would be around first, but as soon as she confirmed, Dean had the Impala packed and was headed to Minnesota. It was already November and Dean could see his breath in the air and the heat had given out in the Impala the other day but he made the drive regardless. He just prayed the heat in Elita's apartment worked. As he worked the chill out of his fingers, the silver doors opened to the fourth floor. He looked around for apartment C. He stood in front of the door for a long minute before knocking. There was exceedingly swift movement on the other side of the door and quickly the door swung open.

Elita stood in the threshold looking more beautiful then Dean's memory could do her justice. She was wearing blue jeans and a sweater- her socked feet sliding on the hardwood floor. She still had red hair but it had gotten more vibrant; he could swear it. And it had gotten longer. The tips of her hair nearly touched her ribs as they spun in layered waves. She was smiling from ear to ear; her hazel eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Dean!" she squealed and leapt forward at him. He caught her effortlessly and held her close to his chest as they chuckled. She laughed as she buried her face in his neck and just hung in his arms. "I've been waiting for you."

"Sorry it took me so long, sweetheart." Dean replied smoothly as she dropped from his arms. She kissed him quickly and moved to close the apartment door behind them.

"Oh god I missed your charm." she mumbled as she took his jacket. Dean took a look around the apartment. From what he could tell, she'd done well for herself. The open kitchen was right next to the front door and the dinning room connected to the living room right in next to the kitchen. The place reminded him of box the way it was set up. The wall to his right went the whole way down to the end of the apartment but there were breaks and doorways. French doors all the way at the end looked like a bedroom, the open glass door next to him was an office and he assumed the bathroom was down the small hallway halfway down.

They moved forward into the apartment so Dean could get a better look and Elita could poor him a cup of coffee to warm his hands and throat with. He looked down the short hall and found the bathroom, a closet and a spare bedroom even. "You sure have a nice place here, Lita. And I'm not joking this time."

"Thanks," She handed him the coffee and motioned for him to sit on the couch. She cradled her tea cup and pulled her legs up underneath her as she sat beside him. "It's not much at all and it coasts me a small fortune every month, but I like it here."

"Did I hear correctly when the bellman referred to me as Anne's guest?" Dean asked and Elita laughed, nodding. "So what's the last name?"

"Bonny. Anne Bonny." Elita replied and they both laughed. She sat sipping her tea, just looking at him. It had been too long since she'd enjoyed the man's company. She wasn't exactly a nun without him around- and she didn't expect any different from him- but no one made her feel like Dean Winchester did. She hadn't even tried to find someone who could.

"How've you been?" Dean asked politely and Elita chuckled at him. She placed her tea cup on the table and grabbed his cup, putting it next to hers. He looked a little confused but quickly caught on when Elita pulled herself close to him and kissed his lips. She straddled him as she laced her fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply.

"Are we going to make small talk, or are we going to do what you came here to do?" she whispered with her face just inches from his. His arms wound around her waist tightly, crushing her chest to his. Their kiss deepened. Dean scooted to the edge of the couch and Elita wrapped her legs around his waist, holding fast. He skillfully stood up with her in his arms and moved to the bedroom. Her king-sized bed was just calling him.

He laid them down and kissed her gently while removing her clothing and his own. He kissed the hollow of her neck as he whispered, "I don't come to you for sex, Lita. I come to you because I care about you."

She pulled away so she could look into his beautiful green eyes. She smiled. "I let you come because I miss you when you're away." she whispered and he smiled back at her. As he moved on top of her she moved to kiss his chin.

* * *

><p>Dean rolled onto his back, laughing. "Your nickname was seriously Bucky Beaver?" he asked with laughter and she hit him, laughing just as hard.<p>

"I had elongated front teeth when I was a kid! I got it fixed eventually but Bobby never really let it go." she replied as she clutched her stomach laughing. "Now tell me your weird childhood nickname!"

Dean looked at her for a long minute then started to laugh. "Sam called me…Bo Bo." he said and there was a pause in the air before Elita busted with laughter. "He couldn't say brother!"

"Oh that's _classic_," Elita mumbled between her laughter. Elita loved the way Dean laughed with his whole face and Elita's giggling made him laugh harder. Pretty soon they were hiccupping. "Okay tell me…your first kiss." Elita challenged.

"Hmm…second grad. I honestly don't even remember her name. We were on the playground. You?"

"Fourth grad. His name was Kenny and I only kissed him because I wanted his Oreos."

"Yeah that sounds like you." Dean chuckled. "Okay…how often do you sleep nude?"

"Leave it to you to turn this into something dirty." Elita teased, laying her head against his outstretched arm. "I sleep nude when I'm with you. That's all that counts." She reached up and planted a kiss on his lips and he smiled.

"That you do," he said as he ran his fingers up her abdomen. Neither of them had clothes on but they had the covers pulled up to keep themselves warm. Elita was curled up next to Dean, trying to steal from his body heat. It wasn't often enough that they had meaningful conversations. If they were together they were working a case or trying to steal away every physical second they could. Of course they talked on the phone and- even though he hated it- she made him get texting so they had easier ways of communicating. But still, nothing could beat the feeling of just laying in his arms.

"I always figured I'd either never settle down as a hunter or I'd have to give up hunting in order _to_ settle down. But with you…I get both. I mean I know we're not too serious or anything but I feel like…" Dean let his sentence trail off; unsure of how to proceed.

"I know what you mean." Elita said, smiling. "It's nice to have another partner." Dean nodded in agreement as he held her close.

"Not that Sam doesn't drive me nuts; but he's my brother and I'll always want to be next to him- if just so I can look out for him." Dean said then his eyes grew sadder. "I don't think this is fair to you though, Lita. You deserve better then some cheap-ass hunter who can only manage to see you every now and then because Sam and I are so fucking codependent."

Elita sat up on her elbow so she could better look Dean in the eye. "Dean," she said seriously. "All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that you'll never be happy unless you're with Sam. So I'm okay. Truly, I am! I would rather you go off hunting with your brother then spend all your time here. I love spending time with you, Dean, you know that. But Sam's your brother and nothing will ever break the bond you two have. I'd kill myself if I stood in the way of you two. Don't ever worry about spending more time with Sam than me."

Dean stared back at Elita's beautiful hazel eyes and swore he'd never met anyone more beautiful in his life. She was so damn perfect in an adorably imperfect way. She saw right through him all the time and wasn't afraid to tell him he was being unreasonable or an ass. He could honestly see himself spending the rest of his life doing just this; loving Elita, hunting with Sam…the family business.

The End.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: It'll probably be a while before I upload the sequel but PLEASE stay tuned! I think its all just a matter of really getting into the story and I don't have enough chapters to do so yet but once I get a certain way along I'm sure I'll be updating often =)<p>

I'm so grateful for the readers and reviewers! Thank you guys so much! =)


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